OCEAN A 

EN GLANDANDHER  C 0 LO MIES 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 
THE  UNIVERSITY 

OF  CALIFORNIA 
LOS  ANGELES 


OCEANA 


ENGLAND  AND  HER  COLONIES 


BY 

JAMES   ANTHONY  FROUDE 


1  Moribus  antiquis  stat  res  Romana  virisyue  "— ENNICS 


NEW   YORK 

CHAKLES    SCEIBNER'S    SONS 
1886 

All  rights  reserved 


THOW* 

NO  BOOKBINDING  COMPADT 
Nl*  YORK. 


College 
Library 


\\ 

\&&(c 
PREFACE. 


I  HAVE  explained  so  fully  in  this  work  my  reasons 
for  writing  it,  that  a  further  account  of  those  rea- 
sons would  be  superfluous.  I  might  therefore,  so 
far,  let  it  go  out  into  the  world  on  its  own  merits, 
without  an  additional  word. 

Some  kind  of  preface,  however,  is  recommended 
by  custom,  to  which  it  is  always  becoming  to  con- 
form. 

I  avail  myself  therefore  of  the  opportunity, 
first,  to  thank  Lord  ELPHIZSTSTOKE,  who  was  my 
companion  during  the  more  interesting  part  of  my 
journey,  for  the  use  which  he  has  allowed  me  to 
make  of  his  portfolio  of  sketches ;  and  secondly, 
to  request  my  Colonial  readers,  when  they  find  me 
quoting  anonymous  opinions  or  conversations,  to 
abstain  from  guesses,  which  will  necessarily  be 
fruitless,  at  the  persons  to  whom  I  am  referring. 

The  object  of  my  voyage  was  not  only  to  see 
the  Colonies  themselves  but  to  hear  the  views  of 


iv  Preface. 

all  classes  of  people  there  on  the  subject  in  which 
I  was  principally  interested. 

Where  there  is  obviously  no  objection,  or  where 
I  have  reason  to  know  that  the  speakers  themselves 
entertain  no  objection,  I  give  the  names  myself. 
Where  I  do  not  give  the  names,  although  I  intro- 
duce nothing  which  was  not  said  to  me  by  some- 
one worth  attending  to,  I  have  involved  my  de- 
scription with  details  of  time,  place,  circumstance, 
and  initials,  all  or  most  of  which  are  intentionally 
misleading. 

J.  A.  R 

ONSLOW  GARDENS  :  December  5,  1885. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 

PAGB 

The  dream  of  Sir  James  Harrington — The  expansion  of  the  English 
race — The  American  colonies — Second  group  of  colonies — Col- 
onial management — Policy  of  separation — The  England  of  po- 
litical economists — Population  and  national  greatness — Popular 
desire  for  union — Indifference  of  statesmen — Difficulties — The 
problem  not  insoluble 1 


CHAPTER  II. 

The  Children  of  the  Sea — The  '  Australasian  ' — Company  on  board 
— Storm  in  the  Channel — Leave  Plymouth — Great  Circle  sailing 
— Sea  studies — Emigrants — An  Irishman's  experience — Virgil — 
Metaphysical  speculations — Old  measurement  of  time — Tene- 
riffe — Bay  of  Santa  Cruz — Sunday  at  Sea — Approach  to  the 
Cape 18 


CHAPTER   III. 

The  Cape  Colony — The  Dutch  settlement — Transfer  to  England — 
Abolition  of  slavery — Injustice  to  the  Dutch — Emigration  of 
the  Boers — Efforts  at  reconquest — The  Orange  River  treaty — 
Broken  by  England — The  war — Treaty  of  Aliwal  North — Dis- 
covery of  diamonds — Treaty  again  broken — British  policy  at 
Kimberley — Personal  tour  in  South  Africa — Lord  Carnarvon 
proposes  a  Conference — Compensation  paid  to  the  Orange  Free 
State — Annexation  of  the  Transvaal — War  with  the  Dutch — 
Peace— Fresh  difficulties— Expedition  of  Sir  Charles  Warren. .  37 


vi  Contents. 

CHAPTER  IV. 

PAGK 

Arrival  at  Cape  Town — A  disagreeable  surprise — Interviewers — 
State  of  feeling — Contradictory  opinions — Prospects  of  Sir 
Charles  Warren's  expedition  —  Mr.  Upington — Sir  Hercules 
Robinson — English  policy  in  South  Africa 61 

CHAPTER   V. 

The  Indian  Ocean — New  Year's  night  at  sea — Extreme  cold — Waves 
and  currents — The  albatross — Passengers' amusements — Modern 
voyages — The  '  Odyssey ' — Spiritual  truth — Continued  cold  at 
midsummer 72 

CHAPTER  VL 

First  sight  of  Australia — Bay  of  Adelaide — Sunday  morning — The 
harbour-master — Go  on  shore — The  port — Houses — Gardens — 
Adelaide  City — The  public  gardens — Beauty  of  them — New  ac- 
quaintances— The  Australian  magpie— The  laughing  jackass — 
Interviewers — Talk  of  confederation — Sail  for  Melbourne — As- 
pect of  the  coast — Williamstown 82 

CHAPTER  TH. 

Landing  at  Melbourne — First  impression  of  the  city — Sir  Henry 
Loch — Government  House — Party  assembled  there — Agitation 
about  New  Guinea — The  Monroe  doctrine  in  the  Pacific — Mel- 
bourne gardens — Victorian  Society — The  Premier — Federation, 
local  and  imperial — The  Astronomer  Royal — The  Observatory 
— English  institutions  reproduced — Proposed  tour  in  the  Colony 
— Melbourne  amusements  —  Music — The  theatre — Sunday  at 
Melbourne — Night  at  the  Observatory 94 

CHAPTER  VUL 

Expedition  into  the  interior  of  the  Colony — Mr.  Gillies — Special 
train — Approaches  to  Ballarat — The  rabbit  plague — A  squatter's 
station — Ercildoun  and  its  inhabitants— Ballarat — Gold-mining 
— Australian  farms — A  cottage  garden — Lake  and  park — Fish 
and  flower  culture — Municipal  hospitality 117 


Contents.  vii 

CHAPTER  IX. 

PAGE 

Bendigo — Sandhurst — Descent  into  a  gold  mine — Hospitalities — 
Desire  for  confederation — Mount  Macedon — Summer  residence 
of  the  Governor — Sir  George  Verdon — St.  Hubert's — Wine- 
growing— Extreme  heat — Mr.  Castella — Expedition  to  Fern- 
shaw — Gigantic  trees — A  picnic — A  forest  fire — Return  to  Mel- 
bourne    134 

» 
CHAPTER  X. 

Colonial  clubs — Melbourne — Political  talk — Anxieties  about  Eng- 
land— Federation — Carlyle's  opinions — Democracy  and  national 
character  —  Melbourne  society  —  General  aspects  —  Probable 
future  of  the  Colony 150 

CHAPTER   XL 

The  train  to  Sydney — Aspect  of  the  country — Sir  Henry  Parkes — 
The  Australian  Club — The  public  gardens — The  Soudan  con- 
tingent— Feeling  of  the  Colony  about  it — An  Opposition  minor- 
ity— Mr.  Dalley — Introduction  to  him — Day  on  Sydney  Har- 
bour— The  flag  ship — Sir  James  Martin — Admiral  Tryon — The 
colonial  navy — Sir  Alfred  Stephen — Sunday  at  Sydney — Growth 
of  the  town — Excursions  in  the  neighbourhood — Paramatta 
River — Temperament  of  the  Australians 161 

CHAPTER   XII. 

Visit  to  Moss  Vale — Lord  Augustus  Loftus — Position  of  a  Governor 
in  New  South  Wales — Lady  Augustus— Chinese  servants — En- 
glish newspapers — Dinner-party  conversations — A  brave  and 
true  bishop — Sydney  harbour  once  more— Conversation  with 
Mr.  Dalley  on  Imperial  Federation — Objections  to  proposed 
schemes— The  Navy — The  English  flag 198 

CHAPTER  XLTL 

Alternative  prospects  of  the  Australian  colonies — Theory  of  the  value 
of  colonies  in  the  last  century — Modern  desire  for  union — Pro- 
posed schemes — Representation — Proposal  for  Colonial  Peers — 


viii  Contents. 

PAGE 

Federal  Parliament  impossible— Organised  emigration— Danger 
of  hasty  measures— Distribution  of  honours — Advantages  and 
disadvantages  of  party  government  in  colonies — Last  words  on 
South  Africa  .  214 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Sail  for  New  Zealand — The  '  City  of  Sydney ' — Chinese  stewards — 
An  Irish  priest — Miscellaneous  passengers — The  American  cap- 
tain and  his  crew — The  North  Cape — Climate  and  soil  of  New 
Zealand  —  Auckland  —  Sleeping  volcanoes  —  Mount  Eden  — 
Bishop  Selwyn's  church  and  residence — Work  and  wages — The 
Northern  Club — Hospitalities— Harbour  works — Tendency  to 
crowd  into  towns — Industries — A  Senior  Wrangler — Sir  George 
Grey — Plans  for  sightseeing 230 


CHAPTER   XV. 

Tour  in  the  interior  of  the  North  Island— Aspect  of  the  country — A 
colonial  magnate — Federation,  and  the  conditions  of  it — The 
Maori — Cambridge  at  the  Antipodes — The  Waikato  Valley — 
Colonial  administration —Oxford — A  forest  drive — The  Lake 
Country — Rotorua — Ohinemutu — The  mineral  baths — A  Maori 
settlement— The  Lake  Hotel  .  .  255 


CHAPTER   XVL 

Road  to  the  Terraces  —The  Blue  Lake — Wairoa — An  evening  walk 
— the  rival  guides — Native  entertainments — Tarawara  Lake — 
A  Maori  girl — The  White  Terrace — Geysers — Volcanic  mud- 
heaps — A  hot  lake — A  canoe  ferry — Kate  and  Marileha — The 
Pink  Terrace — A  bath — A  boiling  pool — Beauty  of  colour — Re- 
turn to  Wairoa  and  Ohinemutu  . .  278 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

Ohinemutn  again — Visitors — A  Maori  village — An  old  woman  and 
her  portrait — Mokoia  island— The  inhabitants — Maori  degene- 
racy— Return  to  Auckland — Rumours  of  war  with  Russia — Wars 
of  the  future — Probable  change  in  their  character 294 


Contents.  ix 

CHAPTEE   XVIII. 

PAGE 

Sir  George  Grey's  Island  —  Climate  -T-  House  —  Curiosities  —  Sir 
George's  views  on  Cape  politics — His  hobbies — Opinions  on  fed- 
eration— Island  retainers — Their  notion  of  liberty — Devotion 
to  their  employer — Birds  and  animals — expedition  into  the 
interior — A  Maori  dining-hall — Shark-fishing — Caught  in  a 
storm — Run  for  the  mainland — A  New  Zealand  farm  and  its 
occupants — End  of  visit  to  Sir  George — Auckland  society — Pro- 
fessor Aldis — General  impression  on  the  state  of  New  Zealand 
— Growth  of  state  debt  and  municipal  debt — Seeming  approach 
of  war — Party  government 305 

CHAPTER  XIX. 

Sail  for  America — The  '  Australia ' — Heavy  weather — A  New  Zea- 
land colonist — Easter  in  the  Southern  Hemisphere — Occupations 
on  board — Samoa — A  missionary — Parliamentary  government 
in  the  Pacific  Islands — A  young  Australian — The  Sandwich  Isl- 
ands— Honolulu — American  influence — Bay  of  San  Francisco. .  336 

CHAPTER   XX. 

The  American  Union — The  Civil  War  and  the  results  of  it — Effect 
of  the  Union  on  the  American  character — San  Francisco — Palace 
Hotel — The  Market — The  clubs — Aspect  of  the  city — California 
temperament — The  Pacific  Railway — Alternative  routes — Start 
for  New  York — Sacramento  Valley — The  Sierra  Nevada — In- 
dian territory — Salt  Lake — The  Mormons — The  Rocky  Moun- 
tains— Canon  of  the  Rio  Grande — The  prairies — Chicago — New 
York  and  its  wonders — The  '  Etruria ' — Fastest  passage  on  rec- 
ord— Liverpool 354 

CHAPTER  XXI. 

The  English  Empire  more  easily  formed  than  preserved — Parlia- 
mentary party  government — Policy  of  disintegration  short- 
sighted and  destructive — Probable  effect  of  separation  on  the 
colonies — Rejected  by  opinion  in  England — Democracy — power 
and  tendency  of  it — The  British  race  -Forces  likely  to  produce 
union — Natural  forces  to  be  trusted —Unnatural  to  be  distrusted 
— If  England  is  true  to  herself  the  colonies  will  be  true  to  Eng- 
land..  .  383 


ILLUSTRATIONS. 


LAKE  ROTOMA,  FROM  OHINEMUTU,  NEW  ZEALAND  .  Frontispiece 

SYDNEY  GAKDENS To  face  page  164 

SIR  GEOKGE  GREY'S  HOUSE,  NEW  ZEALAND       .  "  "      252 

HINEMOIA'S  BATH,  NEW  ZEALAND       ...  "  u      278 

THE  WHITE  TERRACE,  NEW  ZEALAND        .        .  "  "      285 

THE  PINK  TERRACE,  NEW  ZEALAND    .       .        .  "  "      290 

A  SCENE  AT  OHINEMUTU,  NEW  ZEALAND    .        .  "  "      296 

A  MAORI  BANQUET  HALL,  NEW  ZEALAND           .  "  "      319 


OCEANA 


CHAPTER  I. 

The  dream  of  Sir  James  Harrington — The  expansion  of  the  English 
race — The  American  colonies —Second  group  of  colonies — Colonial 
management — Policy  of  separation — The  England  of  political  econo- 
mists—Population and  national  greatness —Popular  desire  for  union 
— Indifference  of  statesmen — Difficulties — The  problem  not  in- 
soluble. 

IN  the  seventeenth  century,  when  the  once  briUiant  star  of 
Spain  was  hastening  to  its  setting,  when  the  naval  supremacy 
which  Spain  had  once  claimed  and  made  her  own  was  trans- 
ferred to  Great  Britain  and  Holland,  and  when  the  superior 
power  of  Great  Britain,  her  insular  position  and  her  larger 
population,  had  assured  to  her  rather  than  to  the  Dutch  Re- 
public the  sceptre  of  the  sea,  Sir  James  Harrington,  in  a 
sketch  of  a  perfect  commonwealth,  half  real,  half  ideal,  which 
he  addressed  to  the  Protector,  described  the  future  destiny 
which  he  believed  to  be  reserved  for  the  Scotch,  English,  and 
Anglo-Irish  nations. 

'  The  situation  of  these  countries,  being  islands  (as  appears 
by  Venice  how  advantageous  such  an  one  is  to  the  like  gov- 
ernment), seems  to  have  been  designed  by  God  for  a  com- 
monwealth. And  yet  Venice,  through  the  straitness  of  the 
place  and  defect  of  proper  arms,  can  be  no  more  than  a  com- 
monwealth for  preservation ;  whereas  Oceana,  reduced  to  a 
like  government,  is  a  commonwealth  for  increase,  and  upon 


2  Oceana. 

the  mightiest  foundation  that  any  has  been  laid  from  the 
beginning  of  the  world  to  this  day — 

Illam  arcta  capiens  Neptnnns  coinpede  stringit, 
Haiic  autem  glaucis  captus  amplectitur  iilnis. 

The  sea  gives  the  law  to  the  growth  of  Venice,  but  the  growth 
of  Oceana  gives  the  law  to  the  sea.' 

In  the  two  centuries  and  a  half  which  have  passed  over  us 
since  these  words  were  written,  the  increase  of  Oceana  has  ex- 
ceeded the  wildest  dream  of  the  most  extravagant  enthusiast. 
Harrington  would  have  been  himself  incredulous  had  he  been 
told  that  within  a  period  so  brief  in  the  life  of  nations,  more 
than  fifty  million  Anglo-Saxons  would  be  spread  over  the  vast 
continent  of  North  America,  carrying  with  them  their  relig- 
ion, their  laws,  their  language,  and  their  manners ;  that  the 
globe  would  be  circled  with  their  fleets  ;  that  in  the  Southern 
Hemisphere  they  would  be  in  possession  of  territoiies  larger 
than  Europe,  and  more  fertile  than  the  richest  parts  of  it ;  that 
wherever  they  went  they  would  carry  with  them  the  genius  of 
English  freedom.  Yet  the  vision  is  but  half  accomplished. 
The  people  have  gone  out,  they  have  settled,  they  have  culti- 
vated the  land,  they  have  multiplied,  and  although  the  pop- 
ulation of  Great  Britain  and  Ireland  is  now  seven-fold  greater 
than  it  was  in  the  Protectorate  of  Cromwell,  the  number  of 
our  kindred  in  these  new  countries  is  already  double  that 
which  remains  in  the  mother  country ;  but  Harrington  con- 
templated that  Oceana  would  be  a  single  commonwealth  em- 
braced in  the  arms  of  Neptune,  and  the  spell  which  can  unite 
all  these  communities  into  one  has  not  yet  been  discovered. 
The  element  on  which  he  calculated  to  ensure  the  combination 
— the  popular  form  of  government — has  been  itself  the  cause 
which  has  prevented  it.  One  free  people  cannot  govern  an- 
other free  people.  The  inhabitants  of  a  province  retain  the 
instincts  which  they  brought  with  them.  They  can  ill  bear 


North  American  Colonies.  3 

that  their  kindred  at  home  shall  have  rights  and  liberties 
from  which  they  are  excluded.  The  mother  country  strug- 
gles to  retain  its  authority,  while  it  is  jealous  of  extending 
its  privileges  of  citizenship.  Being  itself  self-governed, 
its  elected  rulers  consider  the  interests  and  the  wishes 
of  the  electors  whom  they  represent,  and  those  only.  The 
provincial,  or  the  colonist,  being  unrepresented,  suffers  some 
actual  injustice  and  imagines  more.  He  conceives  that  he  is 
deprived  of  his  birthright.  He  cannot  submit  to  an  inferior 
position,  and  the  alternative  arises  whether  the  mother  coun- 
try shall  part  with  its  empire  or  part  with  its  own  liberties. 
Free  Athens  established  a  short-lived  dominion.  Her  subor- 
dinate states  hated  her  and  revolted  from  her,  though  the 
same  states  submitted  quietly  immediately  after  to  the  Mace- 
donian despotism.  Republican  Rome  conquered  the  civilised 
world,  but  kept  it  only  by  ceasing  to  be  a  republic.  Venice, 
which  Harrington  quotes,  reserved  her  constitution  for  her- 
self, ruling  her  dependencies  by  deputy.  They  envied  her 
liberties.  They  did  not  share  in  her  glories  or  her  wealth, 
and  she  ceased  to  be  what  Harrington  calls  her,  even  a  com- 
monwealth for  preservation.  The  English  in  North  America 
had  little  to  thank  us  for.  Many  of  them  had  fled  thither  to  es- 
cape from  religious  or  political  tyranny.  They  had  forgotten 
their  resentment.  They  were  attached  to  the  old  home  by  cus- 
tom, by  feeling,  by  the  pride  of  country,  which  in  Englishmen 
is  a  superstition.  They  were  bitterly  unwilling  to  leave  us. 
But  when  we  refused  them  representation  in  the  British  Leg- 
islature, when  English  ministers,  looking  only,  as  they  were 
obliged  to  look,  to  the  British  constituencies,  hampered  their 
trade,  tied  them  down  under  Navigation  Laws,  and  finally 
would  have  laid  taxes  on  them  with  or  without  their  own  as- 
sent, they  were  too  English  themselves  to  submit  to  a  tyr- 
anny which  England  had  thrown  off.  The  principles  estab- 
lished by  the  Long  Parliament  were  stronger  than  national 


4:  Oceana. 

affection.  The  first  great  branch  of  Oceana  was  broken  off, 
and  became  what  we  now  see  it  to  be — the  truest  in  the  opinion 
of  some,  to  the  traditions  of  Harrington's  commonwealth,  and 
therefore  growing  or  to  grow  into  the  main  stem  of  the  tree. 
But  the  parent  stock  was  still  prolific.  The  American  prov- 
inces were  gone.  New  shoots  sprang  out  again,  and  Oceana 
was  reconstituted  once  more  ;  this  time,  in  a  form  and  in  a 
quarter  more  entirely  suited  to  our  naval  genius,  in  the  great 
islands  of  the  South  Sea,  and  at  the  south  point  of  Africa 
commanding  the  sea  route  to  India.  The  mistakes  of  George 
the  Third  and  Lord  North  were  not  repeated  in  the  same 
form,  but  the  spirit  in  which  they  were  made  reappeared, 
and  could  not  fail  to  reappear.  The  Colonial  minister  at 
home  and  the  Colonial  Office  represent  the  British  Parliament 
The  British  Parliament  represents  the  British  constituencies, 
and  to  them  and  to  their  interests,  and  their  opinions,  the 
minister,  whoever  he  be,  and  to  whatever  party  he  belongs, 
is  obliged  to  look.  The  colonies  having  no  one  to  speak  for 
them,  were  again  sacrificed  so  long  as  it  was  possible  to  sacri- 
fice them.  They  were  used  as  convict  stations  till  they  rose 
in  wrath  and  refused  to  receive  our  refuse  any  more.  Their 
patronage,  their  civil  appointments,  judgeships,  secretary- 
ships, &c.,  were  given  as  rewards  for  political  services  at  home, 
or  at  the  instance  of  politically  powerful  friends.  It  cannot 
be  otherwise:  so  long  as  party  government  continues,  and 
Secretaries  of  State  have  the  nomination  to  public  offices, 
they  are  compelled  (as  a  high  official  once  put  it  to  me)  '  to 
blood  the  noses  of  their  own  hounds.'  "Willingly  enough  they 
surrendered  most  of  these  appointments  when  the  colonies 
claimed  them.  It  is  possible  that  for  the  governorships  which 
the  Crown  retains,  the  fittest  men  to  occupy  them  are  bond  fide 
sought  for  ;  yet  it  is  whispered  that  other  considerations  still 
have  weight.  Nay,  when  one  such  appointment  was  made  a  few 
years  back,  we  were  drawn  into  a  war  in  consequence,  because 


Management  of  Native  Races.  5 

someone  was  the  greatest  bore  in  the  House  of  ConamonSj  and 
there  was  a  universal  desire  that  he  should  be  sent  elsewhere. 

More  serious  were  the  differences  which  rose  continually 
between  the  mother  country  and  the  colonists  respecting  the 
treatment  of  the  native  population,  whether  in  Africa,  Austra- 
lia, or  New  Zealand.  The  colonists  being  on  the  spot,  de- 
sired, and  desire,  to  keep  the  natives  under  control ;  to  form 
them  into  habits  of  industry,  to  compel  them  by  fear  to  re- 
spect property  and  observe  the  laws.  Naturally  too,  being 
themselves  willing  to  cultivate  the  soil,  they  have  not  looked 
very  scrupulously  to  the  rights  of  savages  over  fertile  districts, 
of  which  they  made  no  use  themselves  nor  would  allow  others 
to  use  them  ;  and  sometimes  by  purchase,  sometimes  by  less 
respectable  means,  they  have  driven  the  natives  off  their  old 
ground  and  taken  possession  of  it  themselves.  The  people  at 
home  in  England,  knowing  nothing  of  the  practical  difficulties, 
and  jealous  for  the  reputation  of  their  country,  have  obliged 
their  ministers  to  step  between  the  colonists  and  the  natives : 
irritating  the  whites  by  accusations  either  wholly  false  or  be- 
yond the  truth,  and  misleading  the  coloured  races  into  acts 
of  aggression  or  disobedience,  in  which  they  look  for  support 
which  they  have  not  found.  Never  able  to  persist  in  any 
single  policy,  and  producing  therefore  the  worst  possible  re- 
sults, we  first  protect  these  races  in  an  independence  which 
they  have  been  unable  to  use  wisely,  and  are  then  driven  our- 
selves into  wars  with  them  by  acts  which  they  would  never 
have  committed  if  the  colonists  and  they  had  been  left  to  ar- 
range their  mutual  relations  alone. 

The  situation  has  been  extremely  difficult.  It  cannot  be 
wondered  at,  that  when  war  followed  on  Avar  in  New  Zealand 
and  South  Africa,  and  British  money  was  spent,  and  British 
troops  were  employed  in  killing  Maoris  and  Caffres  who  had 
done  us  no  harm,  and  whose  crime  was  believed  by  many  of 
us  to  be  no  more  than  the  possession  of  land  which  others 


6  Oceana. 

coveted,  public  opinion  at  home  grew  impatient.  Long  bills 
for  these  wars  appeared  in  the  Budgets  year  after  year.  Po- 
litical economists  began  to  ask  what  was  the  use  of  colonies 
which  contributed  nothing  to  the  Imperial  exchequer,  while 
they  were  a  constant  expense  to  the  taxpayer.  They  had 
possessed  a  value  once  as  a  market  for  English  productions, 
but  after  the  establishment  of  free  trade  the  world  was  our 
market.  The  colonies,  as  part  of  the  world,  would  still  buy 
of  us,  and  would  continue  to  do  so,  whether  as  British  depen- 
dencies or  as  free.  In  case  of  war  we  should  be  obliged  to 
defend  them  and  to  scatter  our  force  in  doing  it  They  gave 
us  nothing.  They  cost  us  much.  They  were  a  mere  orna- 
ment, a  useless  responsibility  :  we  did  not  pause  to  consider 
whether,  even  if  it  were  true  that  the  colonies  were  at  present 
a  burden  to  us,  we  were  entitled  to  cut  men  of  our  own  blood 
and  race  thus  adrift  after  having  encouraged  them  to  form 
settlements  under  our  flag.  Both  parties  in  the  State  had 
been  irritated  in  turn  by  their  experience  in  Downing  Street, 
and  for  once  both  were  agreed.  The  troops  were  withdrawn 
from  Canada,  from  Australia,  from  New  Zealand.  A  single 
regiment  only  was  to  have  been  left  at  the  Cape  to  protect 
our  naval  station.  The  unoccupied  lands,  properly  the  in- 
heritance of  the  collective  British  nation — whole  continents 
large  as  a  second  United  States — were  hurriedly  abandoned 
to  the  local  colonial  governments.  They  were  equipped  with 
constitutions  modelled  after  our  own,  which  were  to  endure 
as  long  as  the  connection  with  the  mother  country  was  main- 
tained ;  but  they  were  informed,  more  or  less  distinctly,  that 
they  were  as  birds  hatched  in  a  nest  whose  parents  would  be 
charged  with  them  only  till  they  could  provide  for  themselves, 
and  the  sooner  they  were  ready  for  complete  independence, 
the  better  the  mother  country  would  be  pleased. 

This  was  the  colonial  policy  avowed  in  private  by  responsi- 
ble statesmen,  and  half-confessed  in  public  fifteen  years  ago. 


Policy  of  Separation.  7 

And  thus  it  seemed  that  the  second  group  of  territorial  ac- 
quisitions which  English  enterprise  had  secured  was  to  follow 
the  first.  The  American  provinces  had  been  lost  by  invasion 
of  their  rights.  The  rest  were  to  be  thrown  away  as  valueless. 
The  separation  might  be  called  friendly,  but  the  tone  which 
we  assumed  was  as  offensive  to  the  colonists  as  the  intended 
action  was  unwelcome,  and  if  they  were  obliged  to  leave  us  it 
would  not  be  as  friends  that  we  should  part.  The  English 
people  too  had  not  been  treated  fairly.  A  policy  so  far-reach- 
ing ought  to  have  been  fully  explained  to  them,  and  not  vent- 
ured on  without  their  full  consent.  A  frank  avowal  of  an 
intention  to  shake  the  colonies  off  would  have  been  fatal  to 
the  ministiy  that  made  it.  Ambiguous  expressions  were  ex- 
plained away  when  challenged.  We  were  told  that  self-gov- 
ernment had  been  given  to  the  colonies  only  to  attach  them 
to  us  more  completely,  while  measures  were  taken  and  lan- 
guage was  used  which  were  indisputably  designed  to  lead  to 
certain  and  early  disintegration. 

The  intention  was  an  open  secret  among  all  leading  statesmen, 
if  it  can  be  caUed  a  secret  at  all,  and  in  the  high  political  circles 
the  result  was  regarded  as  assured.  '  It  is  no  use,'  said  an  emi- 
nent Colonial  Office  secretary  to  myself  when  I  once  remon- 
strated, '  to  speak  about  it  any  longer.  The  thing  is  done.  The 
great  colonies  are  gone.  It  is  but  a  question  of  a  year  or  two.' 

Those  were  the  days  of  progress  by  leaps  and  bounds,  of 
'  unexampled  prosperity,'  of  the  apparently  boundless  future 
which  the  repeal  of  the  Corn  Laws  had  opened  upon  British 
industry  and  trade.  The  fate  of  Great  Britain  was  that  it 
was  to  become  the  world's  great  workshop.  Her  people  were 
to  be  kept  at  home  and  multiply.  With  cheap  labour  and 
cheap  coal  we  could  defy  competition,  and  golden  streams 
would  flow  down  in  ever-gathering  volumes  over  landowners 
and  millowners  and  shipowners.  .  .  .  The  'hands'  and  the 
'  hands ' '  wives  and  children  ?  Oh  yes,  they  too  would  do 


8  Oceana. 

very  well :  wages  would  rise,  food  would  be  cheap,  employ- 
ment constant.  The  colonies  brought  us  nothing.  The  em- 
pire brought  us  nothing,  save  expense  for  armaments  and 
possibilities  of  foreign  complications.  Shorn  of  these  wild 
shoots  we  should  be  like  an  orchard  tree  pruned  of  its  luxuri- 
ance, on  which  the  fruit  would  grow  richer  and  more  abundant. 
It  was  a  fine  theory,  especially  for  those  fortunate  ones  who 
could  afford  parks  and  deer  forests  and  yachts  in  the  Solent, 
who  would  not  feel  in  their  own  persons  the  ugly  side  of  it. 
But  the  wealth  of  a  nation  depends  in  the  long  run  upon  the 
conditions  mental  and  bodily  of  the  people  of  whom  it  con- 
sists, and  the  experience  of  all  mankind  declares  that  a  race 
of  men  sound  in  soul  and  limb  can  be  bred  and  reared  only 
in  the  exercise  of  plough  and  spade,  in  the  free  air  and  sun- 
shine, with  country  enjoyments  and  amusements,  never  amidst 
foul  drains  and  smoke  blacks  and  the  eternal  clank  of  machin- 
ery. And  in  the  England  which  these  politicians  designed 
for  us  there  would  be  no  country  left  save  the  pleasure  grounds 
and  game  preserves  of  the  rich.  All  else  would  be  town. 
There  would  be  no  room  in  any  other  shape  for  the  crowded 
workmen  who  were  to  remain  as  the  creators  of  the  wealth. 
What  England  would  become  was  to  be  seen  already  in  the 
enormously  extended  suburbs  of  London  and  our  great  manu- 
facturing cities ;  miles  upon  miles  of  squalid  lanes,  each  house 
the  duplicate  of  its  neighbour :  the  dirty  street  in  front,  the 
dirty  yard  behind,  the  fetid  smell  from  the  ill-made  sewers, 
the  public  house  at  the  street  corners.  Here  with  no  sight  of 
a  green  field,  with  no  knowledge  of  flowers  or  forest,  the  blue 
heavens  themselves  dirtied  with  soot, — amidst  objects  all  mean 
and  hideous,  with  no  entertainment  but  the  music  hall,no  pleas- 
ure but  in  the  drink  shop,  hundreds  of  thousands  of  English 
children  are  now  growing  up  into,  men  and  women.  And  were 
these  scenes  to  be  indefinitely  multiplied  ?  Was  this  to  be  the 
real  condition  of  an  ever-increasing  portion  of  the  English  na- 


The  English  Race.  9 

tion  ?  And  was  it  to  be  supposed  that  a  race  of  men  could  be 
so  reared  who  could  carry  on  the  great  traditions  of  our  coun- 
try ?  I  for  one  could  not  believe  it.  The  native  vigour  of 
our  temperament  might  defy  the  influence  of  such  a  life  for 
a  quarter  or  for  half  a  century.  Experience,  even  natural 
probability,  declared  that  the  grandchildren  of  the  occupants 
of  these  dens  must  be  sickly,  poor  and  stunted  wretches  whom 
no  school  teaching,  however  excellent,  could  save  from  physi- 
cal decrepitude. 

The  tendency  of  people  Jh  the  later  stages  of  civilisation  to 
gather  into  towns  is  an  old  story.  Horace  had  seen  in  Home 
what  we  are  now  witnessing  in  England, — the  fields  deserted, 
the  people  crowding  into  cities.  He  noted  the  growing  de- 
generacy. He  foretold  the  inevitable  consequences. 

Non  his  juventus  orta  parentibus 
Infecit  aeqtior  sanguine  Punico  ; 
Pyrrhumque  et  ingentem  cecidit 

Antiochum,  Hannibalemque  dirum. 
Sed  rusticorum  mascula  militum 
Proles,  Sabellis  docta  ligonibus 
Versare  glebas,  et  se verse 

Matris  ad  arbitrium  recisos 
Portare  f ustes. ' 

And  Horace  was  a  true  prophet.  The  Latin  peasant,  the 
legionary  of  the  Punic  wars,  had  ceased  to  exist.  He  had 
drifted  into  the  cities,  where  he  could  enjoy  himself  at  the 

1  They  did  not  spring  from  sires  like  these, 
The  noble  youth  who  dyed  the  seas 

With  Carthaginian  gore  ; 
Who  great  Antiochus  overcame, 

And  Hannibal  of  yore  ; 
But  they  of  rustic  warriors  wight 
The  manly  offspring  learned  to  smite 

The  soil  with  Sabine  spade, 
And  faggots  they  had  cut  to  bear 
Home  from  the  forest  whensoe'er 

An  austere  mother  bade.  —MARTIN'S  Horace,  Odes  8-6. 


10  Oceana. 

circus,  and  live  chiefly  on  free  rations.  The  virtue — virtus — 
manliness  was  gone  out  of  him.  Slaves  tilled  the  old  farms, 
Gauls  and  Spaniards  and  Thracians  took  his  place  in  the 
army.  In  the  Senate  and  in  the  professions  the  Roman  was 
supplanted  by  the  provincial.  The  corruption  spread.  The 
strength  which  had  subdued  the  world  melted  finally  away. 
The  German  and  the  Hun  marched  in  over  the  Imperial  bor- 
der and  Roman  civilisation  was  at  an  end. 

There  is  not  much  fear  in  England  (spite  of  recent  strange 
political  phenomena)  that  we  shall  see  idle  city  mobs  sus- 
tained on  free  grants  of  corn  ;  but  a  population  given  over  to 
employments  which  must  and  will  undermine  the  physical 
vigour  of  the  race,  generations  of  children  growing  under 
conditions  which  render  health  impossible,  will  come  to  the 
same  thing.  Decay  is  busy  at  the  heart  of  them,  and  the  fate 
of  Rome  seemed  to  me  likely  to  be  the  fate  of  England  if  she 
became  what  the  political  economists  desired  to  see  her.  That 
'  man  shall  not  live  by  bread  alone '  is  as  true  as  ever  it  was  ; 
true  for  week  days  as  well  as  Sundays,  for  common  sense  as 
for  theology.  These  islands  cannot  bear  a  larger  population 
than  they  have  at  present  without  peril  to  soul  and  body.  It 
appeared  as  if  the  genius  of  England,  anticipating  the  inevita- 
ble increase,  had  provided  beforehand  for  the  distribution  of 
it  English  enterprise  had  occupied  the  fairest  spots  upon 
the  globe  where  there  was  still  soil  and  sunshine  boundless 
and  life-giving ;  where  the  race  might  for  ages  renew  its 
mighty  youth,  bring  forth  as  many  millions  as  it  would,  and 
would  still  have  means  to  breed  and  rear  them  strong  as  the 
best  which  she  had  produced  in  her  early  prime.  The  colo- 
nists might  be  paying  us  no  revenue,  but  they  were  opening 
up  the  face  of  the  earth.  By-and-by,  like  the  spreading 
branches  of  a  forest  tree,  they  would  return  the  sap  which 
they  were  gathering  into  the  heart.  England  could  pour  out 
among  them,  in  return,  year  after  year,  those  poor  children  of 


Objections  to   Union.  11 

hers  now  choking  in  fetid  alleys,  and,  relieved  of  the  strain, 
breathe  again  fresh  air  into  her  own  smoke-encrusted  lungs. 
With  her  colonies  part  of  herself,  she  would  be,  as  Harring- 
ton had  foreshadowed,  a  commonwealth  resting  on  the  might- 
iest foundations  which  the  world  had  ever  seen.  Queen 
among  the  nations,  from  without  invulnerable,  and  at  peace 
and  at  health  within, — this  was  the  alternative  future  lying 
before  Oceana :  in  every  way  more  desirable  than  the  eco- 
nomic. Unlike  other  good  things  it  was  easy  of  attainment ; 
we  had  but  to  stretch  our  hand  out  to  secure  it ;  yet  we  sat 
still  doing  nothing  as  if  enchanted,  while  the  Sibyl  was  tear- 
ing out  page  on  page  from  the  Book  of  Destiny. 

Impossible !  the  politicians  said  :  yet  it  was  not  impossible 
for  the  United  States  to  refuse  to  be  divided.  The  United 
States  tore  their  veins  open  and  spilt  their  blood  in  torrents 
that  they  might  remain  one  people.  There  was  no  need  for 
any  blood  to  be  shed  to  keep  us  one  people,  yet  we  talked 
placidly  of  impossibilities.  The  United  States,  it  was  said, 
were  parts  of  a  single  continent.  No  ocean  ran  between  south 
and  north,  or  east  and  west.  Our  colonies  were  dispersed 
over  the  globe.  What  Nature  had  divided,  man  could  not 
bind  together ;  without  continuity  of  soil  there  could  be  no 
single  empire.  Excuses  are  not  wanting  when  the  will  is 
wanting.  The  ocean  which  divides,  combines  also  ;  and  had 
the  problem  been  theirs  and  not  ours,  the  Americans  would 
perhaps  have  found  that  the  sea  is  the  easiest  of  highways, 
which  telegraph  wires  underlie  and  steamers  traverse  with 
the  ease  and  certainty  of  railway  cars.  '  Impossibility '  is  a 
word  of  politicians  who  are  without  the  wish  or  without  the 
capacity  to  comprehend  new  conditions.  An  '  empire '  of 
Oceana  there  cannot  be.  The  English  race  do  not  like  to  be 
parts  of  an  empire.  But  a  '  commonwealth '  of  Oceana  held 
together  by  common  blood,  common  interest,  and  a  common 
pride  in  the  great  position  which  unity  can  secure — such  a 


12  Oceana. 

commonwealth  as  this  may  grow  of  itself  if  politicians  can  be 
induced  to  leave  it  alone. 

As  the  colonies  have  been  hitherto  dealt  with — made  use  of 
in  the  interests  of  the  mother  country  as  long  as  they  would 
submit,  and  then  called  valueless,  and  advised  to  take  them- 
selves away — they  are  in  no  mcod  for  a  union  which  may  bring 
them  again  under  the  authority  of  Downing  Street.  But 
affronts  have  not  estranged  them.  They  have  been  in  no  haste 
to  meet  the  offer  of  independence.  They  claim  still  their 
share  in  the  inheritance  of  the  nation  from  which  they  have 
sprung.  British  they  are  and  British  they  wish  to  remain, 
and  impossible  as  it  is  to  weld  together  two  pieces  of  steel 
while  below  the  welding  temperature,  let  the  desire  for  a 
union  of  equality  rise  in  England  and  rise  in  the  colonies  to 
sufficient  heat,  the  impossibility  will  become  a  possibility,  and 
of  political  possibilities  the  easiest. 

Our  people  stream  away  from  us.  Out  of  the  hundreds  of 
thousands  of  English,  Scots,  and  Irish  who  annually  leave  our 
shores,  eighty  per  cent,  have  gone  hitherto  to  the  United 
States,  and  only  the  remaining  fraction  to  the  countries  over 
which  our  own  flag  is  flying.  I  once  asked  the  greatest,  or  at 
least  the  most  famous,  of  modern  English  statesmen  whether, 
in  the  event  of  a  great  naval  war,  we  might  not  look  for  help 
to  the  60,000  Canadian  seamen  and  fishermen.  '  The  Cana- 
dian seamen,'  he  said,  'belong  to  Canada,  not  to  us;'  and 
then  going  to  the  distribution  of  our  emigrants,  he  insisted  that 
there  was  not  a  single  point  in  which  an  Englishman  settling  in 
Canada  or  Australia  was  of  more  advantage  to  us  than  as  a  citi- 
zen of  the  American  Union.  The  use  of  him  was  as  a  purchaser 
of  English  manufactures — that  was  all.  Sir  Arthur  Helps 
told  me  a  story  singularly  illustrative  of  the  importance  which 
the  British  official  mind  has  hitherto  allowed  to  the  distant 
scions  of  Oceana.  A  Government  had  gone  out ;  Lord  Pal- 
merston  was  forming  a  new  ministry,  and  in  a  preliminary 


Home  Prospects.  13 

council  was  arranging  the  composition  of  it.  He  had  filled 
up  the  other  places.  He  was  at  a  loss  for  a  Colonial  Secretary. 
This  name  and  that  was  suggested,  and  thrown  aside.  At  last 
he  said,  '  I  suppose  I  must  take  the  thing  myself.  Come  up- 
stairs with  me,  Helps,  when  the  council  is  over.  We  will 
look  at  the  maps  and  you  shall  show  me  where  these  places 
are.' 

The  temper  represented  in  this  cool  indifference  is  passing 
away.  The  returns  of  trade  show  in  the  first  place  that  com- 
merce follows  the  flag.  Our  colonists  take  three  times  as 
much  of  our  productions  in  proportion  to  their  numbers  as 
foreigners  take.  The  difference  increases  rather  than  di- 
minishes, and  the  Australian,  as  a  mere  consumer,  is  more 
valuable  to  us  than  the  American.  What  more  he  may  be, 
his  voluntary  presence  at  Suakin  has  indicated  for  him  to  all 
the  world.  But  more  than  this.  It  has  become  doubtful 
even  to  the  political  economist  whether  England  can  trust 
entirely  to  free  trade  and  competition  to  keep  the  place  which 
she  has  hitherto  held.  Other  nations  press  us  with  thejr 
rivalries.  Expenses  increase,  manufactures  languish  or  cease 
to  profit.  Revenue,  once  so  expansive,  becomes  stationary. 
'  Business  '  may,  probably  will,  blaze  up  again,  but  the  growth 
of  it  can  no  longer  be  regarded  as  constant,  while  population 
increases  and  hungry  stomachs  multiply,  requiring  the  three 
meals  a  day  whatever  the  condition  of  the  markets.  Hence 
those  among  us  who  have  disbelieved  all  along  that  a  great 
nation  can  venture  its  whole  fortunes  safely  on  the  power  of 
underselling  its  neighbours  in  calicoes  and  iron-work  no 
longer  address  a  public  opinion  entirely  cold.  It  begins  to 
be  admitted  that  were  Canada  and  South  Africa  and  Australia 
and  New  Zealand  members  of  one  body  with  us,  with  a  free 
flow  of  our  population  into  them,  we  might  sit  secure  against 
shifts  and  changes.  In  the  multiplying  number  of  our  own 
fellow-citizens  animated  by  a  common  spirit,  we  should  have 


14  Oceana. 

purchasers  for  our  goods  from  whom  we  should  fear  no  ri- 
valry ;  we  should  turn  in  upon  them  the  tide  of  our  emigrants 
which  now  flows  away,  while  the  emigrants  themselves  would 
thrive  under  their  own  fig  tree,  and  rear  children  with  stout 
limbs  and  colour  in  their  cheeks,  and  a  chance  before  them 
of  a  human  existence.  Oceana  would  then  rest  on  sure  foun- 
dations ;  and  her  navy — the  hand  of  her  strength  and  the 
symbol  of  her  unity— would  ride  securely  in  self-supporting 
stations  in  the  four  quarters  of  the  globe. 

To  the  magnificence  of  such  an  Oceana,  were  it  but  attain- 
able, the  dullest  imagination  can  no  longer  blind  itself.  But 
how  ?  but  how  ?  the  impatient  politician  asks.  We  may 
dream,  but  he  must  act.  He  has  heard  of  no  scheme  of 
union  which  is  not  impracticable  on  the  face  of  it,  and  be- 
cause we  cannot  give  him  a  constitution  ready  made  he  shuts 
his  ears.  He  can  do  nothing  better.  We  do  not  ask  him 
to  act ;  \ve  ask  him  only  to  leave  things  alone.  An  acorn  will 
not  expand  into  an  oak  if  the  forester  is  for  ever  digging  at 
its  roots  and  clipping  its  young  shoots.  Constitutions,  com- 
monwealths, are  not  manufactured  to  pattern  ;  they  grow,  if 
they  grow  at  all,  by  internal  impulse.  The  people  of  England 
have  made  the  colonies.  The  people  at  home  and  the  people 
in  the  colonies  are  one  people.  The  feeling  of  identity  is 
perhaps  stronger  in  the  colonies  than  at  home.  They  are  far 
away,  and  things  to  which  we  are  indifferent  because  we  have 
them,  are  precious  in  the  distance.  There  is  fresh  blood  in 
those  young  countries.  Sentiment  remains  a  force  in  them, 
as  it  is  in  boys,  and  has  survived  the  chilly  winds  which  have 
blown  from  Downing  Street :  the  sentiment  itself  is  life  ;  and 
when  the  people  desire  that  it  shall  take  organic  form,  the 
rest  will  be  easy.  If  statesmen  had  not  in  other  days  over- 
come greater  difficulties  than  any  which  are  then  likely  to 
present  themselves,  the  English  nation  would  have  dragged 
out  an  obscure  existence  within  the  limits  of  its  own  islands, 


Organic  Union.  15 

and  would  not  Lave  made  the  noise  in  the  world  which  it  has 
done. 

No  such  commonwealth  as  Harrington  imagined  for  his 
Oceana  was,  or  ever  can  be,  more  than  Utopia.  Harrington, 
like  the  Abbe  Sieyes,  believed  that  constitutions  could  be  made 
in  a  closet,  and  fitted  like  a  coat  to  the  back.  But  the  ardu- 
ous part  of  it  is  no  longer  to  create  :  it  is  an  achieved  fact.  The 
land  is  our  possession.  We  ourselves — the  forty-five  millions 
of  British  subjects,  those  at  home  and  those  already  settled 
upon  it — are  a  realised  family  which  desires  not  to  be  divided. 
If  there  have  been  family  differences,  they  have  not  yet  risen 
into  discord.  The  past  cannot  be  wholly  undone  by  soft  words 
and  a  mere  change  of  tone  in  political  circles.  We  and  the 
colonists  have  lived  apart  and  have  misunderstood  one  an- 
other. They  require  to  be  convinced  that  the  people  of  Eng- 
land have  never  shared  in  the  views  of  their  leaders.  We  have 
been  indifferent,  and  occupied  with  our  own  affairs  ;  but  we, 
the  people,  always  regarded  them  as  our  kindred,  bone  of  our 
bone  and  flesh  of  our  flesh.  They  will  never  submit  again  to 
be  ruled  from  England.  The  branch  is  not  ruled  by  the  stem  ; 
the  leaf  does  not  ask  the  branch  what  form  it  shall  assume,  or 
the  flower  ask  what  shall  be  its  colour  ;  but  if  the  colonists 
know  that  as  their  feeling  is  to  us  so  is  ours  to  them,  branch, 
leaf,  and  flower  will  remain  incorporate  upon  the  stem,  aim- 
ing at  no  severed  existence,  and  all  together,  indispensable 
each  to  each  and  mutually  strengthening  each  other,  will  form 
one  majestic  organism  which  may  defy  the  storms  of  fate. 

So  I,  many  years  ago,  as  a  student  of  England's  history  and  be- 
lieving in  its  future  greatness,  imagined  for  myself  the  Oceana 
that  might  be.  But  having  no  personal  knowledge  of  the  col- 
onies, I  could  but  preach  vaguely  from  the  pulpits  of  reviews 
and  magazines,  and,  finding  my  sermons  as  useless  as  such 
compositions  generally  are,  I  determined  myself  to  make  a 
tour  among  them,  to  talk  to  their  leading  men,  see  their  coun- 


16  Oceana. 

tries  and  what  they  were  doing  there,  learn  their  feelings, 
and  correct  my  impressions  of  what  could  or  could  not  be 
done.  I  set  out  for  this  purpose.  Accident  detained  me  at 
the  Cape  of  Good  Hope,  entangled  me  in  Cape  politics,  and 
consumed  the  leisure  which  I  could  then  spare.  After  an  in- 
terval of  ten  years,  finding  that  I  had  still  strength  enough  for 
such  an  enterprise,  and  time  and  opportunity  permitting,  I 
resumed  my  dropped  intention.  I  do  not  regret  the  delay. 
In  the  interval  the  colonies  have  shown  more  clearly  than 
before  that  they  are  as  much  English  as  we  are,  and  deny  our 
right  to  part  with  them.  At  home  the  advocates  of  separa- 
tion have  been  forced  into  silence,  and  the  interest  in  the  sub- 
ject has  grown  into  practical  anxiety.  The  union  which  so 
many  of  us  now  hope  for  may  prove  an  illusion  after  all.  The 
feeling  which  exists  on  both  sides  may  be  a  warm  one,  but  not 
warm  enough  to  heat  us,  as  I  said,  to  the  welding  point 


Tavra  $£(av  \v  yowatri  /carat. 

The  event,  whatever  it  is  to  be,  lies  already  determined,  the 
philosophers  tell  us,  in  the  chain  of  causation.  What  is  to 
be,  will  be.  But  it  is  not  more  determined  than  all  else 
which  is  to  happen  to  us,  and  the  determination  does  not 
make  us  sit  still  and  wait  till  it  comes.  Among  the  causes 
are  included  our  own  exertions,  and  each  of  us  must  do  what 
he  can,  be  it  small  or  great,  as  this  course  or  that  seems  good 
and  right  to  him.  If  we  work  on  the  right  side,  coral  insects 
as  we  are,  we  may  contribute  something  not  wholly  useless 
to  the  general  welfare. 

However  this  may  be,  in  the  closing  years  of  my  own  life  I 
have  secured  for  myself  a  delightful  experience.  I  have  trav- 
elled through  lands  where  patriotism  is  not  a  sentiment  to  be 
laughed  at  —  not,  as  Johnson  defined  it,  '  the  last  refuge  of  a 
scoundrel,'  but  an  active  passion  —  where  I  never  met  a  hungry 
man  or  saw  a  discontented  face—  where,  in  the  softest  and 


The  Other  Englands.  17 

sweetest  air,  and  in  an  unexhausted  soil,  the  fable  of  Midas  is 
reversed,  food  does  not  turn  to  gold,  but  the  gold  with  which 
the  earth  is  teeming  converts  itself  into  farms  and  vineyards, 
into  flocks  and  herds,  into  crops  of  wild  luxuriance,  into  cities 
whose  recent  origin  is  concealed  and  compensated  by  trees 
and  flowers — where  children  grow  who  seem  once  more  to 
understand  what  was  meant  by  'merry  England.'  Amidst 
the  uncertainties  which  are  gathering  round  us  at  home — a 
future  so  obscure  that  the  wisest  men  will  least  venture  a 
conjecture  what  that  future  will  be,  it  is  something  to  have 
seen  with  our  own  eyes  that  there  are  other  Englands  besides 
the  old  one,  where  the  race  is  thriving  with  all  its  ancient 
characteristics.  Those  who  take  { leaps  in  the  dark,'  as  we 
are  doing,  may  find  themselves  in  unexpected  places  before 
they  recover  the  beaten  tracks  again.  But  let  Fate  do  its 
worst,  the  family  of  Oceana  is  still  growing,  and  will  have  a 

sovereign  voice  in  the  coming  fortunes  of  mankind, 
2 


18  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  H. 

The  Children  of  the  Sea — The  '  Australasian ' — Company  on  board — 
Storm  iu  the  Channel — Leave  Plymouth — Great  Circle  sailing — 
Sea  studies — Emigrants — An  Irishman's  experience — Virgil — Meta- 
physical speculations — Old  measurement  of  time — Teneriffe — Bay 
of  Santa  Cruz— Sunday  at  Sea— Approach  to  the  Cape. 

AFTER  their  own  island,  the  sea  is  the  natural  home  of  Eng- 
lishmen ;  the  Norse  blood  is  in  us,  and  we  rove  over  the 
waters,  for  business  or  pleasure,  as  eagerly  as  our  ancestors. 
Four-fifths  of  the  carrying  trade  of  the  world  is  done  by  the 
English.  When  we  grow  rich,  our  chief  delight  is  a  yacht. 
When  we  are  weary  with  hard  work,  a  sea  voyage  is  our  most 
congenial  'retreat.'  On  the  ocean  no  post  brings  us  letters 
which  we  are  compelled  to  answer.  No  newspaper  tempts 
us  into  reading  the  last  night's  debate  in  Parliament,  or  sends 
our  attention  wandering,  like  the  fool's  eyes,  to  the  ends  of 
the  earth.  The  sea  breezes  carry  health  upon  their  wings, 
and  fan  us  at  night  into  sweet  dreamless  sleep.  Itself  eter- 
nally young,  the  blue  infinity  of  water  teaches  us  to  forget  that 
we  ourselves  are  old.  For  the  time  we  are  beyond  the  reach 
of  change — we  live  in  the  present ;  and  the  absence  of  distract- 
ing incidents,  the  sameness  of  the  scene,  and  the  uniformity 
of  life  on  board  ship,  leave  us  leisure  for  reflection  ;  we  are 
thrown  in  upon  our  own  thoughts,  and  can  make  up  our  ac- 
counts with  our  consciences. 

Thus,  in  setting  out  for  Australia,  I  resolved  to  go  by  the 
long  sea  route — long  it  is  called,  but  with  the  speed  of  modern 
steamers  scarcely  longer  than  the  road  through  the  Suez 
Canal.  I  should  have  an  opportunity,  as  we  went  by,  of  see- 
ing my  old  friends  at  Cape  Town.  I  should  make  acquaint- 


The  '•Australasian?  19 

ance  with  the  grand  waves  of  the  Southern  Ocean  ;  I  should 
see  albatrosses,  and  Cape  hens,  and  sea  hawks,  which  follow 
passing  ships  for  thousands  of  miles  ;  above  all,  I  should  have 
six  weeks  of  quiet,  undisturbed  even  by  a  visitor,  before  I 
reached  the  colonies,  and  had  again  to  exert  myself.  My  son 
was  to  go  with  me,  fresh  from  Oxford  and  his  degree.  His 
health,  as  well  as  mine,  required  change,  and  before  he  set- 
tled into  the  work  of  his  life,  I  wished  him  to  enlarge  his 
knowledge  of  things.  Him  I  shall  call  A  Glancing  over  the 
ship  advertisements  in  the  'Times,' I  selected  by  chance  a 
vessel  announced  as  to  sail  in  a  few  days,  belonging  to  a  small 
and  as  yet  little  known  line  of  Aberdeen  packets.  She  was 
called  the  'Australasian, 'of  4,000  tons,  with  improved  engines 
which  were  said  to  promise  speed.  She  was  a  cargo  ship, 
carrying  170  emigrants.  The  after-cabin  accommodation 
was  limited,  but,  as  it  turned  out,  amply  large  enough.  In 
the  moderate-sized  but  elegant  saloon,  there  was  convenient 
room  perhaps  for  thirty  passengers.  There  were  but  nine  of 
us,  including  the  doctor  and  his  pretty,  newly-married  wife. 
We  had  each  a  state-room,  spacious  and  well-furnished  ; — as 
we  were  so  few  they  could  afford  to  lodge  us  haudsomel}*. 
Half  the  long  deck  was  appropriated  for  the  cabin  passengers' 
sole  use,  so  that  we  could  have  been  no  better  off  in  a  large 
private  yacht.  The  owners  modestly  warned  me  that  the 
'  table '  was  inferior  to  what  we  should  have  found  on  the 
established  lines.  We  found,  on  the  contrary,  breakfasts  and 
dinners  superior  to  what  I  ever  met  with  in  any  steamer  in 
any  part  of  the  world.  I  paid  the  cook  a  compliment  on  the 
first  evening,  which  he  never  ceased  to  deserve.  We  had  a 
cow  on  board,  and  new  milk  every  morning  ;  bread  every  day 
fresh  from  the  oven,  and  porridge  such  as  only  Scotch  cooks 
and  a  Scotch  company  can  produce.  In  respect  of  vessel,  of- 
ficers, attendance,  provisions— of  all  things,  great  and  small,  on 
which  we  depend  for  our  daily  comforts,  it  had  been  a  happy 


20  Oceana, 

accident  which  led  me  to  the  choice  of  the  'Australasian.'  My 
plan  was  to  escape  the  Northern  winter,  and  we  therefore  sailed 
at  the  beginning  of  it.  We  went  on  board  at  Tilbury  on  De- 
cember 6,  1884,  and  anchored  for  the  night  at  the  Nore.  We 
had  not  yet  seen  our  companions,  and  as  we  were  to  be  shut 
up  with  them  for  six  weeks,  we  looked  at  them  with  some 
anxiety.  Besides  the  two  whom  I  have  mentioned,  there  was 
a  London  man  of  business  going  on  a  voyage  for  health,  ac- 
companied by  his  sister, — both  of  them  quiet,  well-bred,  and 
unobtrusive  ;  two  youths  with  nothing  especial  to  distinguish 
them  ;  and  a  middle-aged  gentleman,  who  had  travelled  much 
and  had  opinions  about  many  things,  with  accomplishments, 
too,  which  made  him  both  agreeable  and  useful.  He  could 
talk  well,  play  whist  well,  play  chess  tolerably,  and  the  saloon 
piano  with  the  skill  of  a  professional  Add  the  handsome 
captain,  some  thirty-two  years  old,  with  blue  merry  eyes, 
gracious,  pleasant ;  a  skilful  seaman,  willing  to  talk  to  us 
about  his  own  business,  making  us  welcome  to  his  chart  room 
at  all  fitting  seasons,  ready  to  explain  the  mysteries  of  great 
circle  sailing  ;  besides  this,  a  true-hearted,  brave,  energetic, 
and  really  admirable  man.  .  .  .  These  made  the  party  who 
were  collected  three  times  each  day  for  breakfast,  luncheon, 
and  dinner,  in  the  '  Australasian's  '  saloon. 

The  new  engines  being  of  peculiar  construction,  there  was 
some  curiosity  as  to  how  they  would  work.  We  were  accom- 
panied, therefore,  as  far  as  Plymouth,  by  an  accomplished 
and  agreeable  naval  engineer  ;  by  Mr.  Thompson,  the  chief 
manager  of  the  company  to  which  our  vessel  belonged  ;  by 
an  Aberdeenshire  gentleman,  who  was  a  director  of  it ;  and 
by  a  handsome,  athletic,  young  Glasgow  ship-builder.  We 
had  reason  to  be  glad  that  they  went  with  us,  especially  the 
Glasgow  professional.  Sunday,  December  7,  broke  wild  and 
stormy.  We  left  our  anchorage  soon  after  daybreak,  wind,  at 
W.S.W.,  blowing  hard,  and  the  barometer  falling.  Short 


First  Night  in  the  Channel.  21 

brown  waves  were  breaking  round  us  in  dirty  foam,  and  a  ves- 
sel which  had  steamed  past  us  in  the  night  lay  on  a  sandbank 
in  the  middle  of  the  river,  with  the  water  breaking  over  her. 
The  sky  between  the  clouds  was  a  pale  green,  sure  sign  of  a 
gale  coming.     We  had  shelter  as  far  as  the  South  Foreland, 
when  we  met  the  heavy  Channel  sea.     A  misty  rain  was  fall- 
ing, the  air  was  cold,  and  the  spray  flew  over  us  from  stem 
to   stern.     The   passengers   were   most   of  them   sick,  and, 
though  the  engineers  were  well  satisfied,  and  the  '  Australa- 
sian '  herself  cared  little  for  the  waves,  it  was  a  dreary  start. 
In  all  the  world  there  is  no  more  uncomfortable  stretch  of 
water  than  the  British  Channel  in  nasty  weather.     The  day 
wore  on  ;  the  wet  drove  us  below.     In  the  saloon  there  was 
an  open  fireplace,  and  a  bright  fire  burning.     We  tried  to 
read,  but  it  didn't  answer  ;  and  after  dinner,  which  I  was  able 
to  eat  in  spite  of  the  roll,  I  turned  in  early — turned  in,  but 
not  to  sleep.     It  is  not  till  one  lies  down  and  tries  for  it  that  _ 
one  becomes  conscious  of  the  multitudinous  noises  which  go 
on  during  a  gale :  the  grinding   of   the   screw — a  constant 
quantity  that  never  ceases — the  roar  of  the  wind,  the  fierce 
crunch  as  the  vessel  strikes  the  advancing  waves,  the  slamming 
of  doors,  the  rush  of  feet  on  deck,  and  the  wild  cry  of  the 
sailors  hauling  ropes  or  delivering  orders.     I  lay  in  my  berth 
for  a  good  many  hours,  listening  to  all  this,  and  fancying 
what  it  looked  like  up  above,  when  off  St.  Alban's  Head  I  felt 
that  something  had  gone  wrong.     The  engines  stopped,  the 
ship  lay  rolling  in  the  trough  of  the  sea  broadside  on  to  the 
waves  ;  loud  voices  were  calling,  men  in  their  heavy  sea-boots 
were  trampling  to  and  fro.     Passengers  are  not  wanted  on 
deck  on  these  occasions.     I  made  my  way  to  the  foot  of  the 
stairs  and  called  up  to  know  what  was  the  matter.     A  gruff 
voice  advised  me  to  stay  below.     In  two  hours  the  screw  be- 
gan to  revolve  again,  and  the  mischief,  whatever  it  was,  had 
been  repaired.     I  slept  at  last,  and  in  the  morning  learnt  what 


22  Oceana. 

had  happened.  The  '  Australasian  '  was  steared  by  steam  from 
the  bridge  ;  one  of  the  chains  had  parted.  They  had  tried  to 
steer  with  the  wheel,  but  in  fixing  the  gear  the  rudder  broke 
loose,  flying  to  and  fro  and  snapping  the  ropes,  with  which 
they  were  trying  to  secure  the  tiller,  like  packthread.  Mr. 
R ,  our  friend  from  Glasgow,  at  last  mastered  the  diffi- 
culty, and  we  were  able  to  go  on.  Fortunately  we  were  well 
off  the  land  and  had  ample  sea  room.  The  ship  had  rolled 
easily  in  her  temporarily  disabled  state,  and  her  behaviour 
had  given  general  satisfaction.  When  I  came  on  deck  the 
gale  had  moderated,  and  we  were  steaming  quietly  along  the 
Devonshire  coast  a  few  miles  from  Plymouth. 

At  Plymouth  we  had  to  stay  for  twenty-four  hours  repair- 
ing damages  and  taking  in  coal.  Mr.  Thompson  and  his 
party  took  leave  of  us,  and  on  Tuesday,  the  9th,  a  little  before 
noon,  we  took  our  final  departure.  The  sea  was  still  high. 
Our  course  being  now  south,  and  the  wind  being  N.W.  we 
set  canvas  to  check  the  rolling,  and  away  we  went  Our 
speed  was  good  considering  our  expenditure  of  coal  The 
Cunarders  cross  the  Atlantic  in  seven  days,  burning  each  day 
300  tons  and  doing  18  knots  an  hour.  We  made  from  12  to 
13  knots,  and  burned  only  35.  On  Wednesday  we  were  out- 
side the  Bay  of  Biscay,  far  to  the  westward  of  our  course,  as 
traced  on  a  flat  chart ;  but  the  captain  tells  us  that  we  should 
see  it  to  be  right  on  a  spherical  one,  and  we  entirely  believe 
him.  In  all  healthy  work  that  is  done  as  it  should  be,  we 
live  and  move  by  faith.  Had  the  passengers  been  required 
to  give  their  independent  opinions,  they  would  have  voted 
that  we  were  going  wrong  and  must  change  our  direction, 
especially  if  they  suspected  that  the  captain  and  officers  were 
interested  in  the  matter.  They  were  not  asked  for  their  opin- 
ions, and  did  not  wish  to  give  them.  They  were  contented, 
being  ignorant,  to  be  guided  by  those  whom  they  supposed 
to  know ;  this  is  the  universal  rule,  and  when  it  is  observed, 


Liberty  and  Authority.  23 

our  sums  work  out  clear,  without  fractional  remainders. 
Times  were  when  it  held  in  all  departments  of  human  things 
— when  the  supposed  wise  taught  us  what  to  believe,  and  the 
supposed  apurrot  taught  us  what  we  were  to  do,  and  we  kept 
in  temperate  latitudes  in  politics  and  theology.  In  these  two 
singular  sciences  everyone  now  makes  his  own  creed,  and 
gives  his  vote  by  his  own  lights  as  to  how  he  wishes  to  be 
governed.  We  could  not  help  it,  and  we  had  but  a  choice  of 
evils.  There  is  no  success  possible  to  any  man  save  in  find- 
ing and  obeying  those  who  are  his  real  superiors.  But  to 
follow  mock  superiors,  and  to  be  cheated  in  the  process !  who 
could  wish  that  we  should  submit  to  that  ?  If  captains  and 
officers  were  discovered  to  have  never  learnt  their  business, 
to  be  doing  nothing  but  amuse  themselves  and  consume  the 
ship's  stores,  the  crew  would  have  to  depose  them  and  do  the 
best  they  could  with  their  own  understandings  ;  but  if  the 
crew  were  persons  of  sense,  they  would  probably  look  out  at 
their  best  speed  for  other  officers,  and  trust  to  their  own 
lights  for  as  short  a  time  as  possible. 

Anyway  we  were  well  assured  that  Captain  S would 

cany  us  along  his  great  circles  while  ship  and  engines  held 
together,  and  that  we  should  arrive  infallibly  at  the  port 
to  which  we  were  bound.  Without  anxiety  on  this  score  we 
could  settle  down  to  our  own  occupations.  The  only  ques- 
tion was  what  these  occupations  were  to  be,  when  we  had  no 
duties  provided  for  us  save  to  eat  and  sleep.  What  did  pas- 
sengers do  on  long  voyages  when  there  were  no  novels  ?  They 
must  bless  the  man  that  invented  them,  for  at  present  they 
are  the  only  resource.  The  ship's  bookshelves  hold  them  by 
dozens.  They  stream  out  of  private  portmanteaus — yellow 
shilling  editions,  with  heroes  and  heroines  painted  on  the 
covers  in  desperate  situations.  The  appetite  for  such  things 
at  sea  is  voracious.  Most  of  them  will  not  bear  reading  more 
than  once ;  we  consume  them  as  we  smoke  cigars ;  and  on 


24  Oceana. 

second  perusal  they  are  but  ashes.  One  only  wishes  that 
they  introduced  one  to  better  company.  Villanous  men  and 
doubtful  ladies  are  persons  whom  one  avoids  in  life ;  and 
though  they  are  less  objectionable  in  a  book  than  in  actual 
flesh  and  blood,  their  society  is  not  attractive  anywhere.  At 
least,  however,  there  was  an  abundance  to  choose  from  ;  each 
of  us  could  have  a  new  novel  every  day,  and  there  was  no  need 
to  fall  back  upon  the  ashes.  But  besides  these  I  had  a  few 
volumes  of  pocket  classics  which  I  always  take  with  me  in 
distant  expeditions.  Greek  and  Latin  literature  is  wine  which 
does  not  spoil  by  time.  Such  of  it,  in  fact,  as  would  spoil 
has  been  allowed  to  die,  and  only  the  best  has  been  preserved. 
In  the  absence  of  outward  distractions  one  can  understand 
and  enjoy  these  finished  relics  of  the  old  world.  They  shine 
as  fixed  stars  in  the  intellectual  firmament — stars  which  never 
set.  My  first  experience,  however,  was  an  unfortunate  one. 
There  are  stars  and  stirs.  I  had  not  looked  into  Ovid  since 
I  was  a  boy.  He  had  survived,  and  had  therefore  merited  sur- 
vival. I  had  decided  to  use  the  opportunity  and  to  read  him 
through  again.  I  tried  and  I  failed.  Ovid,  like  Horace, 
claims  at  the  close  of  his  '  Metamorphoses '  to  have  built  a 
monument  which  will  be  coeval  with  mankind  ;  he  lives  yet, 
and  can  have  lived  only  by  excellence  of  some  kind ;  but  I 
found  him  wearisome  and  effeminate — an  atheistical  epicu- 
rean, with  neither  Horace's  humour  nor  Lucretius's  grandeur 
to  make  up  for  his  objectionable  creed  ;  very  pretty,  very 
unmanly,  a  fashionable  Roman  man  of  letters,  popular  in 
society,  and  miserable  when  the  unfeeling  Augustus  con- 
demned him  for  a  time  to  salutary  solitude.  Still  people 
read  him,  read  even  the  least  decent  of  his  writings.  It  was 
curious  to  find  in  the  worst  of  these  the  lines  which  are  so 
often  quoted  in  books  of  theology  : — 

Est  Deus  in  nobis,  sunt  et  commercia  coeli  ; 
Sedibus  jeternis  spiritus  ille  venit. 


Emigrants  at  Sea.  25 

Ovid's  Deus,  if  he  had  any,  may  have  sipped  nectar  with 
the  rest  at  the  Olympian  tables,  but  could  not  have  been  a 
respectable  form  of  divinity.  I  flung  my  Ovid  behind  my 
sofa  pillow  ;  even  in  the  novels  I  was  in  better  company  than 
with  him.  There  were  other  things  to  do  besides  reading. 
As  we  flew  south  the  air  grew  more  balmy  and  the  sea  more 
smooth.  The  emigrants  got  over  their  sickness,  and  spread 
themselves  about  the  deck  in  the  sun.  The  captain  was  busy 
among  them,  chattering  and  making  jokes.  Emigrants,  he 
told  me,  were  generally  discontented.  One  very  handsome 
dame  had  fastened  upon  him,  her  tongue  running  like  a  shut- 
tle in  a  cotton  mill.  He  was  obliged  to  be  careful,  he  said, 
for  the  ship  was  under  the  Board  of  Trade,  where  complaints 
were  always  listened  to,  reasonable  or  unreasonable.  But  he 
was  exceptionally  popular.  Has  art  was  to  keep  the  women 
in  good  humour,  and  to  leave  the  men  to  take  their  chance. 
I  saw  him  going  from  group  to  group,  distributing  sugar- 
plums among  the  children,  cramming  lozenges  into  a  fresh- 
looking  young  mother's  mouth,  whose  hands  were  full  of  ba- 
bies. A  coil  of  thick  rope  had  been  left  lying  on  the  main 
hatchway  ;  a  pretty  group  had  fitted  into  it  as  in  a  nest,  and 
were  knitting  and  stitching.  Boys  and  girls  from  infancy  to 
ten  years  old  were  scrambling  about ;  happy,  and  happier 
than  they  knew,  for  they  were  escaping  out  of  their  suburban 
dirt  and  going  to  a  land  where  the  sun  could  shine  and  the 
flowers  blow  ;  where  the  sky  at  night  was  spangled  with  stars, 
and  the  air  was  unloaded  with  fetid  smoke.  No  more  for 
them  the  ragged  yard  and  the  broken  window,  and  its  scanty 
geranium-pots — pathetic  efforts  of  the  poor  souls  to  surround 
themselves  with  objects  not  wholly  hideous.  These  few  elect 
at  least  were  being  snatched  away  from  an  existence  in  which 
not  to  be  at  all,  was  better  than  to  be. 

Sitting  apart  from  the  crowd,  and  apparently  with  no  one 
belonging  to  him,  I  saw  an  Irishman  in  the  unmistakeable 


26  Oceana. 

national  costume,  the  coat-seams  gaping,  the  trousers  in  holes 
at  the  knees,  the  battered  hat,  the  humorous  glimmering  in 
the  eyes.  I  made  acquaintance  with  him,  gave  him  a  pipe  and 
some  tobacco,  for  he  had  lost  his  own,  and  tempted  him  to 
talk.  He  was  on  his  way  to  Brisbane.  His  wife  and  children 
had  been  left  behind  at  Gravesend.  The  officer  of  the  Board 
of  Health  had  found  measles  among  them.  They  were  to  fol- 
low by  another  vessel.  He  was  to  go  on  meanwhile,  and  make 
out  some  kind  of  home  for  them.  I  asked  him  why  he  was 
leaving  Ireland  just  at  this  time  when  better  days  were  com- 
ing. '  The  divil  is  in  the  country,'  he  said  ;  'there  is  no  liv- 
ing in  it  any  way.  There  are  good  laws  now.  There  is  noth- 
ing to  say  against  the  laws  ;  but,  do  what  you  will  with  them, 
no  one  is  any  the  better.'  I  inquired  what  specially  had  gone 
wrong  with  himself.  '  Well,  your  honour,'  he  said,  '  I  had  a 
little  farm  at  Kinsale,  and  there  was  the  boats  and  the  nets ; 
and,  with  the  fishing  and  the  rest,  I  contrived  to  get  a  living 
some  way.  Bat  the  Manx  men  came  down,  and  with  their 
long  nets  they  caught  all  the  large  herrings  and  only  left  us 
the  little  ones.  And  then  there  was  the  bit  of  land,' — he 
paused  a  moment  and  went  on,  '  Thim  banks  was  the  ruin  of 
me.  I  had  rather  had  to  do  with  the  worst  landlord  that  ever 
was  in  Ireland  than  with  thirn  banks.  There  is  no  mercy  in 
them.  They'll  have  the  skin  from  off  your  back.'  Poor  fel- 
low !  No  sooner  had  he  got  his  '  fixity  of  tenure '  than  he  had 
borrowed  money  on  the  security  of  it,  and  '  thim  banks '  would 
have  their  pound  of  flesh.  I  was  very  sorry  for  him  ;  but  how 
could  it  be  otherwise  ?  How  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of 
his  countrymen  will  travel  the  same  road  ? 

In  less  than  a  week  from  Plymouth  we  were  out  of  sound- 
ings, looking  round  us  and  down  into  nothing  but  the  violet- 
coloured  ocean, — Homer's  loetSe'a  TTOVTOV — violet-coloured  where 
most  transparent,  or  lightening  into  turquoise  when  particles 
of  matter  are  floating  thickly  iu  it.  A  light  north-east  wind 


Old  Measurement  of  Time.  27 

followed  us  forming  the  beginning  of  the  trades.  The  air  on 
deck  was  still,  the  speed  of  wind  and  vessel  being  equal.  The 
sun  blazed  hot  by  day.  The  nights  were  warm,  and  one  could 
sit  on  deck  till  midnight  watching  the  stars  pursuing  their 
stately  march  from  east  to  west,  and  shining  with  the  calm 
lustre  of  the  lower  latitudes.  I  suppose  it  is  owing  to  our 
colder  climate  that  we  know  the  stars  so  much  less  accurately 
than  the  Greeks  and  Romans  knew  them,  or  the  Egyptians 
and  Babylonians.  The  sky  to  the  Latin  farmer  was  a  dial- 
plate,  on  which  the  stars  were  pointers  ;  and  he  read  the  hour 
of  the  night  from  their  position  on  its  face.  The  constella- 
tions were  his  monthly  almanack,  and  as  the  sun  moved  from 
one  into  another  he  learned  when  to  plough  and  when  to  sow, 
when  to  prune  his  vines,  and  clip  the  wool  from  his  sheep. 
The  planets  watched  over  the  birth  of  his  children.  The  star 
of  the  morning,  rising  as  the  herald  cf  Aurora,  called  him  to 
the  work  of  the  day.  The  star  of  the  evening,  glimmering 
pale  through  the  expiring  tints  of  sunset,  sent  him  home  to 
supper  and  to  rest,  and  to  his  ignorant  mind  these  glorious 
sons  of  heaven  were  gods,  or  the  abode  of  gods.  It  is  all 
changed  now.  The  Pleiades  and  Orion  and  Sirius  still  pass 
nightly  over  our  heads  in  splendid  procession,  but  they  are 
to  us  no  more  than  bodies  in  space,  important  only  for  pur- 
poses of  science  ;  we  have  fixed  their  longitudes,  we  can  gauge 
in  the  spectroscope  their  chemical  composition,  we  have  found 
a  parallax  for  the  dog  star,  and  know  in  how  many  years  the 
light  which  flows  from  it  will  reach  us.  But  the  shepherd  and 
the  husbandman  no  longer  look  to  them  to  measure  their 
times  and  seasons,  trusting  to  clocks  and  to  printed  author- 
ities, and  losing,  in  the  negligence  of  their  celestial  guide,  as 
much  as,  or  more  than,  they  have  gained.  The  visible  divini- 
ties who  were  once  so  near  to  our  daily  lives  are  gone  for 
ever. 

Even  Virgil  was  sighing  after  a  knowledge  of  the  material 


28  Oceana. 

causes  of  things.  He,  if  he  had  felt  the  strength  in  himself, 
would  have  sung,  like  Lucretius,  of  earthquakes  and  eclipses, 
of  the  moon's  phases  and  the  lengthening  and  shortening  of 
the  days — of  all  the  secrets,  so  far  as  they  were  then  pene- 
trated, of  the  processes  of  nature.  He  complains  of  the  weak- 
ness of  his  intellect,  which  could  not  soar  amidst  these  august 
mysteries.  He  abandons  the  vast  inquiry  with  a  sorrowful 
sense  of  inferiority.  He  says  : — 

Sive  has  ne  possim  naturae  accedere  partes 
Frigidus  obstiterit  circum  praecordia  sanguis, 
Fluminu  amem  sylvasque  inglorius. 

Could  he  have  foreseen  the  blank  vacancy  in  which  science 
was  to  land  us,  he  would  have  been  better  contented  with 
what  the  gods  had  bestowed  upon  him.  But  even  in  Virgil's 
time  the  Olympians  were  growing  mythic ;  sincere  belief  in 
them  was  no  longer  possible,  and  nothing  in  which  he  could 
believe  had  as  yet  risen  above  the  horizon.  By  the  side  of 
spiritual  negations,  democracy,  their  inevitable  comrade,  had 
rushed  in  upon  his  country.  He  was  consoled  to  feel  that 
this  monster  of  anarchy  at  least  had  been  grappled  with  by 
Caesar,  and  lay  chained  and  powerless. 

Furor  impius  intus 

Saeva  sedens  super  anna  et  centum  vinctus  ahenis 
Post  tergum  nodis  fremit  korridus  ore  truento. 

Civil  order  at  least  was  upheld,  though  it  was  order  main- 
tained by  the  sword  ;  and  in  that  compelled  interval  of  calm, 
religion  passed  from  nature  into  conscience  and  struck  root 
there.  Spiritual  belief  revived  again  in  Christianity,  and  re- 
newed the  face  of  the  earth  and  kept  science  at  bay  for  another 
era  of  eighteen  hundred  years.  It  seems  now  that  this  era 
too  is  closed  ;  Science  has  come  back  upon  us,  and  Democracy 
along  with  her— what  next  ? 


Past  and  Present.  29 

Yet,  while  change  is  all  around  us,  there  is  so  much  that 
never  changes  ;  those  stars  on  which  we  were  gazing  from  the 
deck  of  the  '  Australasian,'  those  seas  through  which  we  were 
rushing,  age  after  age  had  looked  on  them  and  seen  them  as  we 
saw  them.  How  many  mariners,  each  once  at  the  front  of  the 
world's  history,  had  sailed  over  those  same  waters  !  Phoeni- 
cians, Carthaginians,  Greeks,  Komans,  Norsemen,  Crusaders, 
Italians,  Spaniards,  Portuguese,  French,  English,  all  in  their 
turn.  To  each  of  these  it  had  seemed  once  to  belong,  and  they 
steered  their  courses  by  the  same  stars  which  are  now  shining 
on  ourselves.  Knights  and  warriors,  pirates  and  traders, 
great  admirals,  discoverers  of  new  continents,  of  whose  names 
history  is  full — Columbus  and  Santa  Cruz,  Drake  and  Gren- 
ville,  Eodney  and  Nelson — had  passed  where  we  were  passing, 
between  the  Azores  and  the  Canaries  ;  all  burning  with  fires 
of  hope  and  purpose  which  have  long  since  sunk  to  ashes. 
Their  eyes,  like  mine,  saw  Draco  winding  among  the  stars  of 
the  Bear,  and  the  Bear  making  his  daily  circuit  round  the 
pole,  alone  of  the  Northern  constellations  unwetted  in  the 
ocean  bath — very  strange  to  think  of.  The  history  of  old 
nations  and  peoples  comes  down  to  us  in  ruined  temples,  in 
parchments  venerable  from  age,  in  fading  portraits,  in  models 
of  antiquated  war-ships,  to  be  smiled  at  in  modern  museums. 
The  generations  of  man  are  but  the  hours  of  a  season  a  little 
longer  than  a  single  year.  The  memory  of  them  is  trampled 
in  by  the  million  feet  of  their  successors,  themselves  in  turn 
to  be  trampled  in  as  swiftly  and  cared  for  no  more.  But  the 
stars  which  we  see  are  the  stars  which  they  saw.  Time  has 
not  dimmed  their  brilliance,  or  age  made  them  loiter  on  their 
course.  Time  for  them  is  not.  They  are  themselves  the 
measurers  and  creators  of  time.  Have  they  too  their  ap- 
pointed end  ?  '  They  shall  perish,  but  thou  shalt  endure. 
They  all  shall  wax  old,  as  doth  a  garment.  As  a  vesture  shalt 
thou  change  them,  and  they  shall  be  changed.  But  thou  art 


30  Oceana. 

the  same,  and  thy  years  shall  not  fail.'  Is  this  true  ?  No  an- 
swer peals  to  us  out  of  the  abysses  of  space.  No  evidence 
can  be  alleged  to  satisfy  a  British  jury.  The  answer,  if  it 
comes  at  all,  must  come  from  the  heart  of  men  ;  and  who  put 
it  there,  and  how  can  a  man's  heart  know  ?  In  the  silent  soli- 
tude of  sea  and  sky  the  unanswerable  questions  thrust  them- 
selves upon  one  unasked.  What  is  it  all?  What  am  I? 
What  is  anything  ?  Schopenhauer  tells  me  that  nothing  is  of 
which  no  idea  has  been  formed  by  some  conscious  being,  and 
therefore  that  nothing  existed  until  some  conscious  being 
came  into  existence  capable  of  forming  an  idea  of  it.  All  that 
we  know  of  ourselves,  or  of  things  outside  ourselves,  being 
conceptions  or  images  impressed  either  on  mind  or  on  sensa- 
tion, where  there  is  no  mind  or  no  sensation  there  can  be  no 
conceptions  and  therefore  no  existence,  and  things  now  per- 
ceived will  similarly  cease  to  be  when  conscious  beings  cease. 
In  other  words,  the  material  universe  is  created  and  sustained 
by  spirit,  and  without  spirit  is  nothing. 

Parallel  to  this  is  Kant's  question,  one  over  which  I  have 
many  times  puzzled  myself  to  sleep  when  opiates  failed  : 
whether  Da  seyn  is  a  predicate,  whether  to  have  had  a  being 
subject  to  space  and  time  is  a  necessary  condition  of  existence. 
Has  not  a  character  which  has  acquired  a  place  in  the  minds 
of  mankind  as  real  an  existence,  even  though  a  creature  of 
imagination  merely,  as  if  the  person  in  question  had  been 
born  with  a  material  body  and  had  lived  a  fixed  number  of 
years,  and  had  worn  clothes  and  taken  his  regular  meals,  and 
in  course  of  time  had  died  ?  Ulysses,  Hamlet,  Julius  Caesar 
are  real  persons.  Each  of  them  stands  with  a  clear  and  fixed 
form  before  the  minds  of  all  of  us.  Would  Ulysses  and  Ham- 
let be  more  than  they  are  to  us  if  some  Greek  king  having 
that  name  had  once  actually  lived  and  reigned  in  Ithaca,  and 
Hamlet  been  a  real  prince  who  thought  he  saw  a  ghost 
and  killed  his  uncle  ?  Would  Julius  Csesar  be  any  less  to  us 


Reals  and  Ideals.  31 

if  we  had  simply  the  story  of  him  and  his  actions  as  an  ac- 
cepted part  of  human  tradition  ?  They  and  he  alike  are  the 
offspring  of  the  creative  inteUectual  spirit.  They  have  been 
actually  created  or  they  would  not  be  among  us.  Does  the 
mere  fact  that  they  were  subject  once  for  a  few  years  to  the 
conditions  of  time  and  matter  add  anything  to  the  truth  of 
the  conception  of  them  which  we  have  in  our  minds  ?  It  is 
no  verbal  speculation,  for  important  consequences  hang  upon 
it,  for  in  this  way  Kant  establishes  the  truth  of  the  Christian 
religion.  Nay,  in  this  way  only  he  considers  that  the  truth  of 
it  can  be  established  with  absolute  certainty.  Historical  facts 
can  never  be  demonstrated  with  a  completeness  of  proof  which 
can  leave  no  room  for  doubt.  A  religion  which  takes  posses- 
sion of  the  convictions  of  mankind  carries  with  it  its  own  evi- 
dence, in  its  conformity  with  universal  spiritual  experience  ; 
and  the  truth  of  it  lying  within  the  four  corners  of  the  con- 
ception, is  above  and  beyond  the  power  of  historical  criticism. 
The  historical  truth  is  a  question  of  space  and  time  which 
does  not  touch  on  eternal  verities.  The  properties  of  a  circle 
lie  in  the  definition,  and  are  truths  of  reason  whether  in  nature 
any  perfect  circle  exists  or  does  not  exist.  The  spiritual  truth 
of  a  doctrine  or  a  mythology  lies  in  the  recognition  which 
the  mind  gives  to  it.  as  conforming  to  and  representing  uni- 
versal experience.  It  is  a  convenient  theory,  convenient  for 
many  purposes.  No  church  council  has  yet  sanctioned  it,  but 
it  must  have  been  present  unconsciously  in  the  mind  of  Car- 
dinal Newman  when  he  wrote  his  'Grammar  of  Assent.'  It 
was  present  in  the  ages  of  faith,  when  the  miracles  of  the 
saints  were  told  as  freely  as  in  a  novel,  with  a  belief  which 
looked  only  to  edification.  It  is  implied  in  the  assertion  that 
belief  per  se  is  a  virtue,  and  that  doubt  is  a  sin. 

Yet,  after  all,  facts  are  something.  My  Uncle  Toby  con- 
cluded, in  spite  of  all  the  arguments  of  the  learned  lawyers, 
that  the  Duchess  of  Suffolk  must  have  been  some  relation  to 


32  Oceana. 

her  own  child.  Julius  Caesar,  as  a  historical  person,  is  more 
to  me  than  he  would  have  been  had  he  existed  nowhere  save 
in  Shakespeare's  play.  The  stars  had  a  being  before  Adam  or 
Adam's  children  began  to  speculate  on  their  movements,  and 
will  be  after  Adam's  race  has  ceased  to  perplex  itself  with  met- 
aphysical conundrums.  • 

To  return  to  the  voyage.  On  Sunday,  the  14th,  five  days 
out  from  Plymouth,  we  passed  Teneriffe.  They  had  called  us 
up  at  daybreak  for  the  first  sight  of  the  islands,  which  rose 
stern  and  grand  out  of  the  sea  in  the  misty  morning  air.  We 
had  coal  enough  and  were  not  obliged  to  stop  ;  so  we  swept 
slowly  round  the  Bay  of  Santa  Cruz.  I  know  not  whether  the 
famous  Marquis,  the  greatest  of  the  Spanish  admirals,  took 
his  title  from  this  place  or  no.  The  Peak  was  white  with 
snow,  though  on  deck  the  tar  was  melting  in  the  sun.  The 
bay  and  town  were  disappointing  when  I  thought  of  the  great 
fights  which  it  had  witnessed.  Between  these  headlands 
Drake  met  the  first  of  his  defeats  on  his  last  and  fatal  voyage, 
the  story  of  which  is  told  exultingly  in  Lope  de  Vega's  '  Drag- 
ontea.'  Lope  had  been  in  the  Armada  in  1588,  and  his  faith  in 
Providence  had  been  tried  by  the  good  fortune  of  the  heretic 
English,  and  especially  of  El  Draque,  the  pirate,  the  dragon  of 
the  Apocalypse,  who  had  so  long  roved  the  seas  with  impu- 
nity, plundered  the  Spanish  gold-ships,  burnt  the  fleet  in 
Cadiz,  and  had  shattered  and  hunted  through  the  English 
Channel  the  avenging  squadrons  of  Medina  Sidonia.  Strange 
that  the  wicked  one  should  so  long  have  prospered,  but  the 
hand  of  God  fell  upon  him  at  last,  and  here,  in  the  bay,  the 
first  stroke  had  reached  him.  There  was  nothing  but  the 
mere  locality,  nothing  to  throw  light  either  on  the  misfortune 
of  El  Draque,  or  on  the  great  victory  of  Blake  afterwards  on 
the  same  spot.  Santa  Cruz  is  a  mere  collection  of  Spanish 
houses  and  churches,  spread  loosely  on  the  hillside,  the  dark 
lines  and  spots  being  avenues  and  clumps  of  oranges  and 


Sunday  at  Sea.  33 

olives,  The  Great  Island  is  green  but  bare,  and  unpictu- 
resquely  covered  with  ugly  plants  which  are  grown  for  the  coch- 
ineal insect.  From  the  sea  it  is  less  beautiful  by  far  than 
Madeira,  though  less  repulsive  than  the  arid  rocks  of  St.  Vin- 
cent and  the  rest  of  the  Cape  de  Verd  group.  Close  inspec- 
tion might  have  improved  our  impression  ;  and  had  we  landed 
I  should  have  heard  again  the  pleasant  sound  of  the  Castilian 
tongue.  But  it  could  not  be.  The  captain  had  his  own  and 
his  ship's  credit  to  maintain  by  a  quick  passage. 

Being  Sunday  we  had  service  on  deck  after  we  left  the  bay. 
The  captain  read  prayers  at  a  table  covered  in  the  usual  way 
with  the  Union  Jack.  He  was  a  Presbyterian,  and  new  to 
this  part  of  his  business,  so  he  missed  his  way  in  the  Liturgy 
and  we  had  to  help  him.  It  was  very  pretty,  however :  the 
officers  in  full  uniform,  the  emigrants  in  their  best  clothes, 
joining,  all  of  them,  some  with  full,  rich  voices,  in  the  hymns 
which  have  grown  among  us  in  such  profusion  in  the  last 
forty  years,  and  have  become  household  songs  to  the  English 
race  all  over  the  world.  Otherwise  the  day  was  as  tedious  as 
we  everywhere  make  it.  St.  Aldegonde  in  '  Lothair  '  exclaims, 
'  How  I  hate  Sundays  ! '  We  mean  to  be  reverent,  and  we  try 
to  force  the  feelings  by  forbidding  irreverent  amusements, 
while  at  the  same  time  we  provide  nothing  to  help  the  mind 
to  serious  thoughts  when  service  is  over,  except  books,  gen- 
erally themselves  tedious,  and  especially  so  when  they  try  to 
be  spiritually  entertaining.  The  most  stringent  rules  cannot 
bind  the  thoughts,  cannot  give  a  tone  to  conversation.  Peo- 
ple, as  a  fact,  think  as  usual  and  talk  as  usual,  but  they  must 
not  act  as  usual.  They  do  not  work,  because  it  is  a  holy  day  ; 
yet  chess,  for  instance,  is  not  work,  and  we  are  forbidden  to 
play  chess.  St.  Aldegonde's  impatience  was  not  entirely  be- 
cause his  habits  were  artificially  interfered  with.  He  disliked 
the  inconsistency  and  the  unreality  perhaps  a  great  deal  more. 
If  Sunday  books  were  the  best  in  the  world,  all  eyes  cannot 
3 


34  Oceana. 

read  after  sunset,  especially  in  imperfectly-lighted  ships. 
Why  may  I  not  play  chess  ?  I  must  not  set  a  bad  example  ; 
but  is  it  wrong  ?  and,  if  not  wrong,  why  is  the  example  bad  ? 
I  have  heard  some  people  say  that  they  go  to  church  for  ex- 
ample. They  do  not  need  outward  observances  for  them- 
selves ;  they  are  not  like  the  poor  publican,  and  can  do  with- 
out such  things  ;  but  church  is  good  for  the  publican,  and  it 
gives  them  pleasure  to  encourage  him.  Such  pleasure  as  this 
belongs  to  the  mala  mentis  gandia,  the  evil  pleasures  of  the 
soul,  which,  Virgil  says,  lie  in  the  vestibule  of  Orcus. 

The  engines,  at  any  rate,  do  not  observe  Sunday,  not  being 
human.  We  run  punctually  our  300  miles  a  day.  When  we 
have  left  Teneriiie  under  the  horizon  we  reach  the  north-east 
trade.  The  wind  barely  overtakes  the  ship.  The  sun  streams 
hotter  upon  the  deck.  The  water  rises  to  80  degrees  ;  but 
the  air  is  pure  and  sweet.  An  awning  is  spread  over  the 
deck,  where  I  lie  by  day  and  read  about  the  pious  2Eneas. 
At  night  we  watch  Arcturus  and  the  Bear  sinking  lower  and 
lower,  and  to  the  south  new  constellations  appearing  above 
the  horizon.  The  black  care  which  clings  behind  the  horse- 
man cannot  reach  the  ocean.  We  smoke,  we  dream,  we  read, 
we  play  quoits  on  deck.  Our  star-gazing,  as  we  are  without 
accurate  knowledge,  costs  us  no  intellectual  effort,  and  we 
pick  up,  without  difficulty,  fragments  of  nautical  science  in 
the  captain's  chart-room.  We  stand  at  his  side  when  he 
makes  it  twelve  o'clock  at  noon  and  notes  down  the  exact 
point  which  we  have  reached.  A  friend  of  mine  who  was  to 
cross  the  Atlantic  in  the  old  sailing-ship  days  had  studied  his 
route  on  a  map  formed  of  the  two  flat  circles  representing  the 
two  halves  of  the  globe.  They  touched  only  at  a  single  point, 
and  he  was  afraid  that  the  captain  might  miss  it  and  carry 
him  off  into  space.  Our  course  lay  happily  upon  a  single 
hemisphere,  so  that  we  had  no  anxiety.  On  December  20 
we  crossed  the  line,  leaving  midwinter  behind  us  and  entering 


Sea  Studies.  35 

into  midsummer.  The  weather  continued  beautiful.  The 
ship  slid  on  upon  an  even  keel.  Our  windows  were  open  day 
and  night,  for  there  was  not  a  wave  to  threaten  our  port-holes. 
On  Midsummer  Night  the  emigrants  got  up  an  entertainment. 
They  sang  glees  ;  they  sang  solos.  One  poor  fellow  tried  a 
dance,  but  the  only  fiddle  broke  down,  and  dancing  without 
music  is  not  beautiful.  '  The  best  in  this  kind  are  but  as 
shadows,  and  the  worst  are  no  worse  if  imagination  mend 
them.' 

I  finished  the  '.ZEneid.'  It  is  a  beautiful  piece  of  work- 
manship, but  I  can  understand  why  Virgil  himself  wished  it 
burnt.  He  did  not  believe  in  his  story  of  .ZEneas.  All  that 
part  of  it  is  conscious  invention,  and  the  gods  are  intolerable. 
Lucian  himself  never  equalled  the  conversation  between 
Jupiter  and  Juno,  where  Jupiter  calls  her  his  '  sweetest  wife,' 
and  she  him  the  '  beautif  ullest  of  husbands.'  The  pious 
.ZEneas  himself  too,  save  on  the  one  occasion  on  which  he  for- 
got himself,  is  immaculate  as  Tennyson's  Arthur,  and  very 
like  him — not  a  genuine  man,  but  an  artificial  model  of  a 
highly  respectable  man. 

As  we  approached  the  Cape  I  became  more  and  more  anx- 
ious to  know  in  what  condition  I  should  find  it.  The  Gov- 
ernment at  home  had  taken  a  new  point  of  departure  in  send- 
ing Sir  Charles  Warren  into  Bechuanaland.  To  myself  it  ap- 
peared to  be  one  more  step  in  the  same  direction  which  com- 
menced with  our  taking  the  Diamond  Fields  from  the  Dutch 
in  1871,  and  has  led  us  into  such  a  labyrinth  of  trouble. 
For  twenty  years  before  that  achievement  there  had  been 
comparative  peace  in  South  Africa.  In  1852  we  had  dis- 
covered that  wars  with  the  natives  and  wars  with  the  Dutch 
were  expensive  and  useless,  that  sending  troops  out  and  kill- 
ing thousands  of  natives  was  an  odd  way  of  protecting  them. 
We  resolved  then  to  keep  within  our  own  territories,  to  med- 
dle no  more  beyond  the  Orange  Kiver,  and  to  leave  the 


36  Oceana. 

Dutch  and  the  natives  to  settle  their  differences  among  them- 
selves. If  we  had  kept  to  that  policy,  a  good  many  thousand 
people  now  dead  would  be  alive.  A  good  many  millions  of 
money  now  spent  would  be  in  the  pockets  of  the  taxpayers, 
and  the  South  Africans,  white  and  black  alike,  would  have 
been  a  great  deal  happier  and  more  prosperous.  We  had  set 
the  treaty  aside,  however  ;  we  had  been  seizing  territoi'y  and 
then  abandoning  it,  and  fighting  and  killing  and  getting  bad 
defeats,  and  we  were  now  going  into  a  fresh  adventure,  in 
my  eyes  equally  unpromising.  The  peace  to  which  we  con- 
sented after  the  victory  of  the  Dutch  at  Majuba  Hill  was  an 
act  of  high  magnanimity.  Our  acquiescence  had  been  misin- 
terpreted, and  some  step  might  be  necessary  to  show  that  we 
intended,  notwithstanding,  to  assert  our  authority  in  South 
Africa  ;  but  in  what  we  were  now  doing  we  were  running  the 
risk  of  plunging  the  whole  country  into  civil  war  ;  and  success 
would  leave  the  essential  problem  as  far  from  settlement  as 
ever. 

Having,  as  I  said,  been  at  one  time  connected  with  Cape 
affairs,  and  having  some  knowledge  of  the  inner  bearings  of 
them,  before  I  describe  our  arrival  there,  I  will  give  a  brief 
account  of  the  colony,  how  we  came  by  it,  and  how  we  have 
conducted  ourselves  in  the  management  of  it. 


CHAPTER  HI. 

The  Cape  Colony — The  Dutch  settlement — Transfer  to  England — Aboli- 
tion of  slavery — Injustice  to  the  Dutch — Emigration  of  the  Boers  — 
Efforts  at  reconquest — The  Orange  River  treaty — Broken  by  Eng- 
land— The  war — Treaty  of  Aliwal  North — Discovery  of  diamonds — 
Treaty  again  broken — British  Policy  at  Kimberley — Personal  tour  in 
South  Africa — Lord  Carnarvon  proposes  a  Conference — Compensa- 
tion paid  to  the  Orange  Free  State — Annexation  of  the  Transvaal — 
War  with  the  Dutch — Peace — Fresh  difficulties — Expedition  of  Sir 
Charles  Warren. 

THE  Cape  Colony,  as  we  ought  to  know,  but  in  practice  we 
always  forget,  was  originally  a  Dutch  colony.  Two  centuries 
ago,  when  the  Hollanders  were  the  second  maritime  power  in 
the  world — perhaps  not  even  second — they  occupied  and  set- 
tled the  southern  extremity  of  Africa.  They  easily  conquered 
the  Hottentots  and  Bushmen,  acting  as  we  ourselves  also  acted 
invariably  in  similar  circumstances.  They  cleared  out  the 
wild  beasts,  built  towns,  laid  out  roads,  enclosed  and  ploughed 
the  land,  planted  forests  and  vineyards.  Better  colonists  or 
more  successful  did  not  exist,  than  the  Dutch.  They  throve 
and  prospered,  and  continued  to  thrive  and  prosper  till  the 
close  of  the  last  centuiy.  If  we  compare  the  success  of  the 
Dutch  in  the  management  of  uncivilised  tribes  with  our  own, 
in  aU  parts  of  the  world,  it  will  be  found  that,  although  their 
rule  is  stricter  than  ours,  and  to  appearance  harsher,  they 
have  had  fewer  native  wars  than  we  have  had.  There  has 
been  less  violence  and  bloodshed,  and  the  natives  living  under 
them  have  not  been  less  happy  or  less  industrious.  Holland 
in  the  Revolutionary  war  was  seized  by  the  French  Directory. 


38  Occana. 

The  English,  at  the  request  of  the  Prince  of  Orange,  took  the 
Cape  under  their  protection.  It  was  on  the  high  road  to 
India ;  there  was  then  no  alternative  route  by  the  Suez 
Canal ;  and  so  important  a  station  could  not  be  permitted  to 
fall  into  the  hands  of  Napoleon.  At  the  peace  of  Amiens  it 
was  restoi'ed  to  Holland,  and  the  English  garrison  was  with- 
drawn. On  the  war  breaking  out  again,  our  occupation  was 
renewed  ;  a  fleet  was  sent  out,  with  a  strong  invading  force. 
The  Cape  Dutch  resisted — fought  a  gallant  action,  in  which 
they  were  largely  helped  by  native  allies  ;  they  yielded  only 
in  the  belief  that,  as  before,  the  occupation  would  be  tempo- 
rary, and  that  their  country  would  be  finally  given  back  to 
them  when  the  struggle  was  over.  It  was  not  given  back. 
At  the  Congress  of  Vienna,  they  found  themselves  transferred 
permanently  to  the  English  dominion  without  their  own  con- 
sent being  either  obtained  or  asked  for.  They  had  made  the 
country  what  it  was,  had  set  up  their  houses  there,  had  done 
no  one  any  harm,  and  had  been  in  possession  for  seven  gen- 
erations. They  were  treated  as  adscripts  ylebce,  as  part  of  the 
soil.  They  resented  it ;  the  hotter  spirits  resisted  ;  they  were 
called  rebels,  and  were  shot  and  hanged  in  the  usual  fashion. 
If  we  had  been  wise,  we  should  have  made  allowance  for  the 
circumstances  under  which  the  Cape  had  come  into  our  hands ; 
we  should  have  tried  to  reconcile  the  Dutch  to  an  alien  rule, 
by  exceptional  consideration.  We  did  make  an  exception, 
but  not  in  their  favour.  We  justified  our  conquest  to  our- 
selves by  taking  away  the  character  of  the  conquered,  and  we 
constituted  ourselves  the  champion  of  the  coloured  races 
against  them,  as  if  they  were  oppressors  and  robbers.  After 
the  peace,  slave  emancipation  was  the  question  of  the  day. 
They  were  slave-owners,  but  so  were  we  ;  we  had  been  sinners 
alike.  We  repented  and  voted  over  twenty  millions  to  clear 
ourselves  of  the  reproach.  We  expected  that  the  Dutch 
should  recognise  as  instantaneously  as  ourselves  the  wicked- 


The  Dutch  at  the  Cape.  39 

ness  of  the  institution ;  and  because  they  are  a  deliberate  and 
slow  people,  not  given  to  enthusiasm  for  new  ideas,  they  fell 
into  disgrace  with  us,  where  they  have  ever  since  remained. 
Slavery  at  the  Cape  had  been  rather  domestic  than  predial ; 
the  scandals  of  the  West  India  plantations  were  unknown 
among  them.  The  slaves  were  part  of  their  families,  and  had 
always  been  treated  with  care  and  kindness.  They  submitted 
to  the  emancipation  because  they  could  not  help  themselves  ; 
but  when  the  compensation  came  to  be  distributed,  the  terms 
offered  them  were  so  much  less  favourable  than  had  been  al- 
lowed to  the  planters  at  Jamaica  and  Barbadoes,  were  so 
unequal  in  themselves  and  were  embarrassed  with  so  many 
technical  conditions,  that  many  of  the  Dutch  farmers  refused 
to  accept  them.  They  dismissed  their  slaves  freely,  and  to 
this  day  have  never  applied  for  the  moderate  sums  which  they 
might  with  difficulty  have  obtained. 

It  was  not  enough  to  abolish  slavery.  The  enthusiasm  of 
the  hour  could  not  tolerate  the  shadow  of  it.  The  Hottentots 
were  then  numerous  in  the  colony  ;  with  the  emancipated 
slaves,  they  formed  a  large  population  ;  they  had  been  placed 
under  vagrancy  laws  like  those  which  prevailed  in  England  up 
to  the  reforming  era  of  the  present  century  ;  like  the  '  sturdy 
and  valiant  beggars '  of  our  statute-book,  they  were  forbidden 
to  wander  about  the  country,  but  were  forced  to  remain  in 
one  place  and  work  for  their  living.  These  laws  were  repealed. 
The  Hottentots  were  allowed  to  go  where  they  pleased  ;  they 
scattered  through  the  bush,  they  took  to  drink  and  thieving, 
and  became  a  general  nuisance  to  the  Dutch  farmers  ;  for, 
as  yet  there  were  few  English  settlers  outside  the  towns,  and 
our  own  position  was  purely  that  of  military  conquerors. 
Had  the  Dutch  and  the  Hottentots  been  left  to  themselves, 
the  latter,  most  of  whom  came  to  a  bad  end,  would  probably 
now  be  surviving  and  in  a  fair  way  to  leading  useful  lives. 
Drink  and  idleness  carried  them  off ;  but  because  the  Dutch 


40  Oceana. 

objected  to  these  measures,  they  were  regarded  in  England 
as  slave-owners  at  heart,  as  barbarians  and  tyrants,  as  illiter- 
ate savages,  as  the  real  cause  of  all  that  had  gone  wrong. 
The  unfavourable  impression  of  them  became  a  tradition  of 
the  English  press,  and  unfortunately  of  the  Colonial  Office. 
We  had  treated  them  unfairly  as  well  as  unwisely,  and  we 
never  forgive  those  whom  we  have  injured. 

The  Cape  Dutchman,  or  Boer,  as  we  call  him,  is  a  slow, 
good-humoured  person,  not  given  to  politics,  occupied  much 
with  his  religion  and  his  private  affairs,  and  if  let  alone,  with 
some  allowance  for  his  habits  and  opinions,  would  have  long 
since  forgotten  his  independence,  would  have  acquiesced  in 
the  inevitable,  and  become  the  most  conservative  and  least 
revolutionary  of  the  Queen's  subjects.  And  the  Colonial 
Office,  if  free  to  act  by  its  own  judgment,  would,  for  its  own 
sake,  long  ago  have  followed  a  conciliatory  policy.  But 
colonial  secretaries  have  to  consider  their  party  in  Parliament, 
and  members  in  Parliament  have  to  consider  their  constitu- 
ents and  public  opinion.  Slave  emancipation  was  the  special 
glory  of  the  English  people,  and  there  was  no  safer  road  to 
public  favour  than  to  treat  those  who  were  unsound  on  this 
greatest  of  questions  as  beyond  the  pale  of  consideration. 
The  Boers  had,  or  imagined  that  they  had,  a  list  of  grievances, 
large  and  small,  as  long  as  an  Irishman's,  and  sufferers  of 
wrong  have  longer  memories  than  the  inflictors  of  wrong. 
Impatient  of  a  yoke  which  calumny  made  intolerable,  a  swarm 
of  them,  many  thousands  strong,  took  wing  in  1835  and  1836, 
packed  their  goods  into  their  waggons,  gathered  their  flocks 
and  herds  about  them,  and  struck  off  for  the  unknown  wilder- 
ness to  the  north  of  the  Orange  River.  The  migration  left 
the  home  ties  unbroken.  Each  family  in  the  colony  sent  one 
or  more  of  its  young  ones.  The  history  of  these  emigrants 
repeats  our  own  history  wherever  we  have  settled,  and  must 
be  the  history  of  all  settlers  in  new  countries  which  are  in- 


The  Boers  of  the  North.  41 

habited  already  by  an  inferior  race.  Before  they  went  they 
established  communications  with  various  tribes,  who  agreed 
to  receive  them.  They  were  welcome  to  some,  they  were  un- 
welcome to  others.  Disputes  arose  about  land  and  stolen 
cattle.  There  were  collisions,  and  massacres  called  treacher- 
ous, avenged  by  wars  and  fresh  acquisitions  of  territory,  till 
they  became  possessors  of  all  the  country  now  known  as  the 
Orange  Free  State,  the  Transvaal,  and  Natal.  In  England  it 
was  represented  that  they  were  carrying  fire  and  sword  among 
the  innocent  natives.  Aborigines  of  other  breeds  might 
suffer ;  we  were  sorry,  but  we  could  sit  still.  But  there  was 
something  in  the  ill-treatment  of  a  negro  which  fired  the 
English  blood.  We  decided  that  the  Boers  could  not  escape 
their  allegiance  by  going  out  of  the  colony.  We  pursued 
them,  drove  them  out  of  Natal,  invaded  the  Orange  Free 
State,  fought  battles  with  imperfect  results,  got  into  quarrels 
with  the  natives  ourselves,  notably  with  the  Basuto  Moshesh, 
who  taught  us  that  these  roving  expeditions  were  unprofitable 
and  might  be  dangerous.  Grown  sick  at  last  of  enterprises 
which  led  neither  to  honour  nor  peace,  we  resolved,  in  1852, 
to  leave  Boers,  Caffres,  Basutos,  and  Zulus  to  themselves, 
and  make  the  Orange  River  the  boundary  of  British  respon- 
sibilities. We  made  formal  treaties  with  the  two  Dutch 
states,  binding  ourselves  to  interfere  no  more  between  them 
and  the  natives,  and  to  leave  them,  either  to  establish  them- 
selves as  a  barrier  between  ourselves  and  the  interior  of 
Africa,  or  to  sink,  as  was  considered  most  likely,  in  an  un- 
equal struggle  with  warlike  tribes  by  whom  they  were  in- 
finitely outnumbered.  They,  on  their  side,  undertook  not  to 
re-establish  slavery  ;  and  so  we  left  them. 

With  an  exception,  which  I  shall  notice  presently,  these 
treaties  were  observed  for  seventeen  years,  and  '  the  land  had 
rest'  from  its  misfortunes.  Our  own  Border  troubles  ceased.  The 
colony  was  quiet  and  had  no  history.  The  new  states  did  not 


42  Oceana. 

sink  but  prospered.  The  Boers  spread  over  a  territory  as  large 
as  France.  They  arranged  their  disputes  with  the  natives 
with  little  fighting.  In  the  Transvaal  a  million  natives  lived 
peaceably  in  the  midst  of  them,  working  with  them  and  for 
them.  By  far  the  most  thriving  native  location  which  I  my- 
self saw  in  South  Africa  was  close  to  Pretoria.  They  were 
rough,  but  they  had  rude  virtues,  which  are  not  the  less  virt- 
ues because  in  these  latter  days  they  are  growing  scarce. 
They  are  a  very  devout  people,  maintaining  their  churches 
and  ministers  with  excessive  liberality.  Their  houses  being 
so  far  apart,  they  cannot  send  their  children  to  school,  and 
generally  have  tutors  for  them  at  home.  Religious  observ- 
ances are  attended  to  scrupulously  in  their  households.  The 
Boers  of  South  Africa,  of  all  human  beings  now  on  this  planet, 
correspond  nearest  to  Horace's  description  of  the  Roman 
peasant  soldiers  who  defeated  Pyrrhus  and  Hannibal.  There 
alone  you  will  find  obedience  to  parents,  as  strict  as  among 
the  ancient  Sabines,  the  severa  mater  whose  sons  fetch  and 
carry  at  her  bidding,  who,  when  those  sons  go  to  fight  for 
their  country,  will  hand  their  rifles  to  them  and  bid  them  re- 
turn with  their  arms  in  their  hands — or  else  not  return  at  all. 
They  rule  after  their  own  pattern.  They  forbid  idleness 
and  indiscriminate  vagrancy.  They  persuade,  and,  when  they 
can,  compel  the  blacks  to  cultivate  the  ground  and  be  in- 
dustrious. They  give  them  no  votes  for  the  Volksraad.  They 
do  not  allow  them  even  to  own  the  freehold  of  land,  except 
under  white  trustees,  lest  they  should  reintroduce  their  old 
tribal  tenures  and  confound  the  law.  But,  on  the  whole,  the 
management  has  not  been  unsuccessful.  There  have  been  no 
risings  of  blacks  against  whites  in  the  Transvaal.  Authority 
has  been  sustained,  without  panics  and  without  severity. 
Such  scenes  as  the  destruction  of  Langalabalele's  tribe  in 
Natal,  or  the  massacre  at  Koegas,  which  disgraced  the  Cape 
Colony  in  1878,  have  never  been  paralleled  in  the  Dutch  in- 


The  Boers  of  the  North.  43 

dependent  states.  They  could  not,  however,  earn  the  confi- 
dence of  the  English  Government.  Perhaps  their  unexpected 
success  was  an  offence.  Their  methods  were  not  our  methods, 
and  were  easily  misrepresented.  Stories  were  told — untrue 
generally,  but  not  wholly  without  foundation — of  Boers,  on 
the  borders  of  the  Transvaal,  kidnapping  native  children,  or 
purchasing  them  of  plundering  tribes,  and  bringing  them  up 
as  slaves  under  the  disguise  of  apprentices.  The  Transvaal 
Government  severely  and  successfully  repressed  these  pro- 
ceedings. I  say  successfully  because,  in  the  years  during 
which  the  Transvaal  was  again  a  British  province,  cases  of  the 
kind  would  have  been  brought  to  light  had  any  then  existed, 
and  not  a  single  child  was  discovered  in  the  condition  de- 
scribed. Yet  these  practices  were  reported  to  England  as  as- 
certained facts,  and  were  honestly  believed.  The  Boers  were 
held  to  Lhave  broken  their  engagement,  and  many  excellent 
people  among  us  insisted  that  we  were  neglecting  our  duty  in 
leaving  them  uncontrolled. 

They  were  left,  however,  materially  undisturbed.  The 
English  Government  was  in  no  haste  to  meddle  again.  Cape 
politics  had  been  so  disagreeable  a  subject  that  persons  in 
authority  at  the  Colonial  Office  dismissed  them  from  their 
minds.  They  hoped  that  the  Dutch  difficulties  were  dis- 
posed of  altogether  ;  and  so  little  acquainted  were  they  with 
the  character  and  distribution  of  the  Cape  population  that 
Lord  Cardwell,  who  had  been  himself  Colonial  minister,  be- 
lieved, as  late  as  1875,  that  all  the  Dutch  in  South  Africa  had 
migrated  to  the  Free  States,  and  that  the  Colony  was  en- 
tirely English.  He  told  me  so  himself,  and  was  taken  en- 
tirely by  surprise  when  I  informed  him  that  the  Dutch  were 
still  the  majority,  and  a  very  large  majority,  in  the  colony  it- 
self. Nor  were  they  only  the  majority,  but  they  were  doing 
all  the  work  which  was  really  valuable.  The  English  were 
merchants,  shopkeepers,  artisans ;  they  made  railways,  man- 


44  Oceana. 

aged  ostrich  farms,  dug  diamonds  and  copper,  and  drove  ox- 
waggons.  The  Boers  almost  alone  were  cultivating  the  soil, 
and  but  for  them  all  the  white  inhabitants  of  South  Africa 
would  be  living  on  foreign  flour,  tinned  milk,  and  imported 
potatoes. 

Peace  was  doing  its  work.  The  two  races  were  drawing 
together,  and,  if  the  treaties  of  1852  had  not  been  broken, 
South  Africa  would  have  by  this  time  been  reunited,  and  the 
Dutch  farmers  would  have  been  loyal  subjects  of  the  Crown. 
I  think  everyone  who  knows  South  Africa  will  agree  with  me 
in  this  opinion.  The  Boer  is  a  born  Conservative,  and  the 
Free  States,  if  let  well  alone,  would  have  naturally  rejoined 
their  kindred.  Unhappily  the  feeling  in  England  continued 
to  be  irritated  against  them  by  reports  not  entirely  honest. 
The  friends  of  the  coloured  races  were  on  the  watch,  and  an 
occasion  rose  which  enabled  them  to  force  a  renewal  of  in- 
terference. On  abandoning  the  Orange  Free  State,  we  be- 
queathed as  a  legacy  an  unsettled  border  dispute  with  the 
Basutos.  We  were  tired  of  fighting  with  them  ourselves,  and 
we  left  the  President  and  Volksraad  at  Bloemfontaine  to  ar- 
range the  differences  as  they  could.  They  could  not  arrange 
them  peacefully.  In  1865  a  war  broke  out  between  the 
Orange  Free  State  and  the  sons  of  Moshesh.  It  lasted  four 
years,  and  was  then  ending  because  the  Basutos  could  resist 
no  longer,  when  they  threw  themselves  on  British  protection, 
and,  in  spite  of  our  solemn  engagements,  we  interfered  with 
a  high  hand.  It  seldom  answers  to  break  treaties,  even  with 
the  best  intentions.  The  Basuto  territory  was  north  of  the 
Orange  River,  and  we  were  doing  what  we  had  distinctly 
bound  ourselves  not  to  do.  I  suppose  that  neither  we  nor 
South  Africa  generally  have  reason  to  be  gratified  with  our 
action  on  that  occasion.  The  common  interest  of  all  of  us 
would  have  been  better  served  had  we  stood  by  our  engage- 
ments, and  left  the  Dutch  to  deal  with  the  Basutos  as  they 


Discovery  of  Diamonds.  45 

could.  But  the  true  state  of  things  was  not  known  in  Eng- 
land. The  Boers  had  a  bad  name  with  us.  To  protect  inno- 
cent natives  from  oppression  was  a  popular  cry,  and  the  Brit- 
ish Government  yielded  to  the  general  wish.  It  was,  however, 
so  far  a  single  act ;  the  non-intervention  policy  was  still  to  be 
maintained  as  a  whole.  To  satisfy  the  Orange  Free  State  we 
undertook  to  guarantee  that  the  Basutos  should  keep  the 
peace  for  the  future,  and  the  treaty  of  1852  was  renewed  at 
Aliwal  North  in  1869,  with  fresh  assurances  that  the  breach 
of  it  should  not  be  made  a  precedent  for  further  interposi- 
tions. The  Dutch  of  the  colony  resented  what  we  had  done, 
and  there  remained  a  soreness  of  feeling  ;  but  they  considered 
that  a  new  engagement,  freshly  entered  into,  would  not  be 
again  violated. 

Perhaps  it  would  not  have  been  violated  had  no  new  temp- 
tation come  in  our  way.  But  South  Africa,  like  other  coun- 
tries, is  torn  by  factions.  There  was  a  party  there  who  bore 
the  Free  States  no  good-will,  and  a  step  which  had  been  once 
taken  might  be  more  easily  taken  a  second  time.  The  ink  on 
the  treaty  of  Aliwal  North  was  scarcely  dry  when  diamonds 
were  discovered  in  large  quantities  in  a  district  which  we  had 
ourselves  treated  as  part  of  the  Orange  Territory  before  our 
first  withdrawal,  and  which  had  ever  since  been  administered 
by  Orange  Free  State  magistrates.  There  was  a  rush  of  dig- 
gers from  all  parts  of  the  country.  There  was  a  genuine  fear 
that  the  Boers  would  be  unable  to  control  the  flock  of  vult- 
ures which  was  gathering  over  so  rich  a  prey.  There  was  a  no- 
tion also  that  the  finest  diamond  mine  in  the  world  ought  not 
to  be  lost  to  the  British  Empire.  It  was  discovered  that  the 
country  in  which  it  lay  was  not  part  of  the  Free  State  at  all, 
and  that  it  belonged  to  a  Griqua  chief  named  Waterboer. 
This  chief  in  past  times  had  been  an  ally  of  the  English.  The 
Boers  were  accused  of  having  robbed  him.  He  appealed  for 
help,  and  in  an  ill  hour  we  lent  ourselves  to  an  aggression  for 


46  Oceana. 

which  there  was  no  excuse.  Lord  Kimberley  gave  his  name 
to  the  new  settlement.  The  Dutch  were  expelled.  They  did 
not  resist,  but  they  yielded  under  protest  to  superior  force, 
and  from  that  day  no  Boer  in  South  Africa  has  been  able  to 
trust  to  English  promises.  The  manner  in  which  we  acted, 
or  allowed  our  representatives  to  act,  was  insolent  in  its  cyni- 
cism. We  had  gone  in  as  the  champions  of  the  oppressed 
Waterboer.  We  gave  Waterboer  and  his  Griquas  a  tenth  of 
the  territory.  We  kept  the  rest  and  all  that  was  valuable  for 
ourselves.  What  could  the  Dutch  have  done  worse  ?  We  have 
accused  them  of  breaking  their  engagements  with  us,  and  it 
was  we  who  taught  them  the  lesson.  A  treaty  but  a  few 
mouths  old  was  staring  us  in  the  face.  Even  if  Waterboer's 
title  had  been  as  good  as  his  friends  pretended,  we  had 
pledged  ourselves  to  meddle  no  more  in  such  matters,  in  lan- 
guage as  plain  as  words  could  make  it.  Our  conduct  would 
have  been  less  entirely  intolerable  if  we  had  rested  simply  on 
superior  strength — if  we  had  told  the  Boers  simply  that  we 
must  have  the  Diamond  Fields  and  intended  to  take  them  ; 
but  we  poisoned  the  wound,  and  we  justified  our  action,  by 
posing  before  the  world  as  the  protectors  of  the  rights  of  na- 
tive tribes,  whom  we  accused  them  of  having  wronged,  and 
we  maintained  this  attitude  through  the  controversy  which 
afterwards  arose. 

I  had  myself  to  make  inquiries  subsequently  into  the  de- 
tails of  this  transaction,  perhaps  the  most  discreditable  in  the 
annals  of  English  Colonial  History.  There  were  persons  ready, 
if  necessary,  to  depose  in  a  court  of  justice  how  Waterboer's 
case  had  been  got  up.  It  was  proved  afterwards  in  a  Land 
Court  held  at  Kimberley,  before  Mr.  Justice  Stockenstrom, 
that  the  Griqua  chief  had  never  possessed  any  rights  of  the 
Territory  at  alL  But  all  such  inquiries  are  superfluous.  The 
Treaty  of  Aliwal  is  our  all-sufficient  condemnation.  This  one 
action  has  been  the  cause  of  all  the  troubles  which  have  since 


The  Diamond  Fields.  47 

befallen  South  Africa.  The  Dutch  are  slow  to  move,  but  when 
moved  are  moved  effectually.  We  selected  this  particular  mo- 
ment to  pass  the  Cape  Colony  over  to  its  own  Parliament  to 
manage,  and  we  meant  the  Diamond  Fields  to  be  a  present 
to  it  on  attaining  its  majority.  The  Colonial  Office  could 
have  given  no  better  proof  of  its  own  unfitness  to  govern  there 
than  in  its  last  performance,  and  in  that  sense  perhaps  the 
time  was  well  chosen.  There  was  a  general  election  at  the 
Cape  on  the  occasion  of  the  new  constitution.  The  Dutch 
electors  determined  to  support  the  protest  of  the  Orange  Free 
State,  and  the  new  members  made  it  at  once  clear  that  if  the 
Imperial  Government  chose  to  violate  treaties  it  must  take 
the  consequences.  Instead  of  accepting  gratefully  Lord  Kim- 
berley's  gift,  they  refused  to  touch  it.  They  would  have 
nothing  to  do  with  the  Diamond  Fields  until  the  Orange  Free 
State  declared  itself  satisfied  with  our  occupation  ;  and  we 
were  left  with  a  province  in  the  interior  of  Africa  with  no 
communication  with  it,  except  through  the  Free  States  which 
we  had  robbed,  or  the  Cape  Colony  which  we  had  alienated 
and  which  was  no  longer  our  own.  The  mining  population 
who  had  assembled  there  was  miscellaneous,  dangerous,  and 
ungovernable.  The  frontier  between  the  province  and  the 
two  Free  States  was  unsettled,  and  apparently  incapable  of 
settlement,  since  our  right  to  be  there  was  not  admitted  by 
the  Government  at  Bloemfontaine. 

One  saving  feature  there  was  in  the  situation  :  the  daring 
and  able  man  whom  we  had  selected  to  govern  our  precious 
new  possession.  He  had  no  British  troops  to  support  him, 
nor  did  he  ask  for  any.  Tearing  to  pieces  the  shreds  of  the 
now  useless  treaties,  he  entered  into  relations  with  all  the 
native  chiefs  on  the  borders  of  the  two  republics,  inviting 
them  to  become  British  subjects,  and  promising  to  protect 
them  from  the  Dutch.  They  sent  gangs  of  their  people  to 
work  in  the  diamond  pits.  The  wages  of  these  people  were 


48  Oceana. 

laid  out  in  powder  and  arms,  with  which  we  had  promised  not 
to  furnish  the  natives.  Tens  of  thousands  of  guns  and  rifles 
were  distributed  in  two  or  three  years  among  the  surround- 
ing tribes  as  a  direct  menace  to  the  Dutch,  who  had  now  a 
semicircle  of  armed  men  drawn  outside  them  from  Kimberley 
to  Zululand.  Naturally  there  was  the  greatest  alarm  and  the 
greatest  indignation  among  them.  They  were  threatened 
with  invasions  and  inroads  of  savages  set  on  and  counte- 
nanced by  the  British  Government.  They  were  poor  in  money, 
and  with  difficulty  were  able  to  provide  means  to  defend  them- 
selves.  The  object  was  of  course  to  bring  them  upon  their 
knees,  force  them  to  withdraw  their  protest,  and  acknowledge 
the  sovereign  rights  of  Great  Britain.  The  waggons  bringing 
the  rifles  up  to  Kimberley  passed  through  the  Dutch  territory. 
The  Free  State  magistrates  stopped  them  as  illegal,  which  they 
were.  To  supply  the  natives  with  arms  was  against  the  law. 
Reparation  was  instantly  demanded.  Commissioners  were  sent 
from  Kimberley  to  Bloemfontaine  to  require  compensation 
and  an  apology,  and  forty-eight  hours  alone  were  allowed  for  an 
answer.  The  President  was  ill  at  the  time  and  unable  to  take 
part  in  business.  His  council  paid  the  money,  but  paid  it 
under  protest,  with  an  old-fashioned  appeal  to  the  God  of 
righteousness,  whom,  strange  to  say,  they  believed  to  be  a 
reality. 

Another  ultimatum  had  been  sent  to  the  Transvaal  Govern- 
ment. The  Transvaal  being  far  off  was  less  submissive,  and 
a  state  of  tension  was  set  up  which  could  only  have  ended  in 
a  war  of  races.  The  native  tribes  would  have  been  let  loose 
upon  the  Dutch  farmers.  Every  Dutchman  in  South  Africa 
who  could  carry  a  rifle  would  have  gone  to  the  help  of  his 
kindred,  so  justly,  so  deeply  indignant  were  they.  We  had 
been  sowing  dragon's  teeth  at  the  Diamond  Fields,  and  the 
old  harvest  was  springing  from  them. 

Such  was  the  state  of  things  when,  in  1874,  I  travelled 


The  Diamond  Fields.  49 

through  Natal,  the  Free  States,  the  Diamond  Fields,  and  the 
North  of  the  Colony.  At  Kimberley  I  enquired  privately  into 
the  history  of  Waterboer's  claims.  The  evidence  was  violently 
conflicting :  but  persons  who  were  behind  the  scenes  were 
ready  to  come  forward  and  prove  that  '  the  annexation  had 
been  a  swindle  and  a  trick.'  It  was  impossible  for  me,  as  a 
stranger,  to  tell  who  were  lying  and  who  were  speaking  the 
truth.  But  the  breach  of  treaty  was  indisputable  ;  and  I 
could  not  reconcile  myself  to  the  calm  statement  of  one  gentle- 
man high  in  authorit}-,  that  as  we  had  broken  the  treaty  in 
the  case  of  the  Basutos  we  might  break  it  again.  If  Water- 
boer's pretensions  were  as  clear  as  they  were  doubtful,  our 
action  had  been  extravagantly  impolitic.  It  could  be  no  ob- 
ject to  us,  even  for  so  precious  a  possession  as  a  pit  of  dia- 
monds, to  hold  a  province  in  the  far  interior  which  our  own 
Cape  Colony  repudiated,  and  our  occupation  of  which  was 
creating  such  a  temper  in  the  Dutch  population  all  over  South 
Africa.  At  Cape  Town  I  had  a  conversation  about  it  with  the 
Premier,  Mr.  Molteno.  He  told  me  that  he  was  as  sorry  as  I 
could  be  ;  that  he  had  himself  opposed  the  annexation,  that 
he  regretted  the  course  which  the  Imperial  Government  had 
pursued  and  was  pursuing,  but  that  Griqualand  was  beyond 
the  colonial  frontier.  It  was  not  his  business,  and  he  could 
not  interfere. 

On  my  return  to  England  I  laid  my  experiences  before 
Lord  Carnarvon,  who  was  then  Colonial  Secretary.  Lord 
Carnarvon  was  not  satisfied  that  the  annexation  had  been  un- 
just, but  of  course  he  paid  great  attention  to  the  opinion  of 
the  Cape  Premier.  The  Colonial  Office  had  undervalued  the 
Dutch  as  a  fighting  power,  and  had  thought  that  the  irrita- 
tion would  be  limited  to  words  :  nor  had  it  allowed  for  the 
feeling  created  in  the  colony  ;  a  war  with  the  Free  States, 
should  it  come  to  that,  would  be  dangerous  as  well  as  dis- 
.graceful,  and  would  lead  certainly  to  complications  with  the 
4 


50  Oceana. 

newly  established  Constitutional  Government.  Lord  Car- 
narvon resolved  to  make  an  effort  for  a  peaceful  settlement. 
It  was  not  easy  for  the  office  to  acknowledge  that  it  had  done 
wrong ;  nor  had  proof  yet  been  produced  that  wrong  had 
been  done.  If  a  treaty  had  been  broken,  there  were  per- 
haps exceptional  reasons  for  breaking  it.  But  the  impolicy  of 
alienating  and  exasperating  the  majority  of  the  constituents 
of  a  colony  which  had  just  been  trusted  with  self-government 
was  obvious.  It  had  been  represented  to  me  at  the  Cape  that 
a  conference  of  representatives  from  the  various  states  inter- 
ested, could  easily  find  a  solution.  Lord  Carnarvon  consid- 
ered that  the  simplest  solution  would  be  a  confederation  of 
all  the  South  African,  Dutch,  and  English  Communities  into 
a  confederation  like  the  Canadian  Dominion,  in  which  minor 
differences  would  be  merged.  I  did  not  think  myself  that 
the  Dutch,  in  their  existing  humour,  would  listen  to  this  pro- 
posal. It  was  the  easiest  road,  however,  for  the  retreat  of 
the  Colonial  Office.  Lord  Carnarvon  sent  out  a  despatch  in- 
viting a  conference  to  consider  various  questions,  the  position 
of  the  Diamond  Fields  among  them,  suggesting  confederation, 
but  not  pressing  it.  A  fortnight  after  the  despatch  went  I 
followed,  with  instructions  that  when  the  conference  met,  the 
dispute  with  the  Free  States  was  to  be  considered  and  dis- 
posed of  before  anything  else  was  discussed.  I  had  myself 
written  along  with  the  despatch  a  private  letter  to  Mr.  Mol- 
teno,  under  the  impression  that  he  would  welcome  Lord  C.'s 
proposal  as  a  means  of  carrying  out  his  own  expressed  wishes. 
Since  the  original  appropriation  of  South  Africa  no  minister 
had  shown  so  much  concern  for  the  Dutch  inhabitants  as 
Lord  Carnarvon  now  was  showing,  and  I  never  doubted  for  a 
moment  that  Mr.  Molteno  would  meet  his  intentions  with  the 
cordiality  which  they  deserved. 

I  do  not  know  the  secret  history  of  what  followed.     There 
were  persons,  I  suppose,  who  were  interested  in  keeping  open 


Proposed  Conference.  51 

the  quarrel  between  the  Free  States  and  the  Imperial 
Government — who  wished  the  Free  States  to  be  brought 
upon  their  knees  with  the  assistance  of  native  allies.  The  de- 
spatch was  laid  before  the  Cape  Parliament  with  commenta- 
ries, which,  if  the  object  was  to  embitter  every  difference, 
had  the  merit  of  ingenuity.  It  was  represented  as  an  insid- 
ious attempt  to  entangle  the  colony  in  responsibilities  which 
it  had  repudiated — as  a  treacherous  scheme  to  bring  the 
Free  States  back  under  the  English  flag — as  an  interference 
with  the  colony's  private  affairs,  which  it  was  necessary  to 
check  on  the  spot.  The  proposed  conference  was  hurriedly, 
and  even  insultingly,  rejected.  The  absurd  misrepresentation 
of  Lord  Carnarvon's  objects  was  spread  over  the  country  by 
the  press  ;  and  when  I  arrived,  I  found  a  universal  ferment, 
and  the  Dutch  more  furious  than  ever. 

I  applied  for  an  explanation  to  the  Premier,  and  I  reminded 
him  of  what  he  had  said  to  me.  To  my  surprise,  he  went 
back  from  his  own  words.  He  said  now,  that  we  might  do  as 
we  liked  with  the  Free  States.  He  had  no  objection.  I  told 
him  that  I  must  at  least  explain  Lord  Carnarvon's  intentions. 
The  Governor  had  suggested  that  I  might  address  a  letter  of 
explanation  to  him  which  he  could  lay  before  Parliament. 
But  Mr.  Molteno  positively  refused  to  allow  the  matter  to 
come  before  the  Parliament  again.  I  took  his  refusal  to  mean 
that  no  explanation  was  to  be  given,  and  that  my  own  lips 
were  to  be  closed.  The  position  seemed  unfair  to  me,  and 
the  injury  from  the  lies  that  were  put  in  circulation  to  be 
more  than  serious.  If  I  was  silent  I  should  seem  to  admit 
their  justice.  The  Dutch,  at  least,  ought  to  know  what  Lord 
Carnarvon  had  meant,  and  as  the  question  was  between  the 
Free  States  and  the  Imperial  Government,  I  could  not  recog- 
nise that  I  should  violate  any  constitutional  principle  in  tell- 
ing the  truth.  In  doubtful  cases  truth  is  generally  the  safest 
policy.  I  attended  a  dinner  in  Cape  Town  and  said  a  few 


52  Oceana. 

words.  The  result  was  a  revulsion  of  feeling  among  the 
friends  of  the  Free  States,  much  abuse  of  myself  in  ministerial 
newspapers,  an  agitation  which  spread  over  the  Colony,  and 
finally  a  recall  of  the  Parliament,  which  had  been  prorogued 
in  the  interval,  when  the  Colony  agreed  to  assist  the  Imperial 
Government  in  bringing  the  quarrel  to  an  end.  This  was  all 
that  I  wanted.  There  could  be  no  war  after  the  Colony  had 
become  a  party  to  the  dispute,  and  a  settlement  agreeable  to 
the  Dutch  Colonial  constituencies  could  not  be  unsatisfactory 
beyond  the  Orange  Eiver.  I  went  home.  Mr.  Brand,  the 
President  of  the  Orange  Free  State,  came  to  London  shortly 
after.  It  was  admitted  in  general  terms  at  the  Colonial  Office 
that  he  had  not  been  treated  fairly  about  the  Diamond  Fields, 
and  a  sum  of  90,000/.  was  allowed  him  as  compensation.  The 
money  was  nothing :  the  acknowledgment  of  wrong  was 
everything.  The  Dutch  of  South  Africa,  though  obstinate  as 
mules,  ai*e  emotional  and  affected  easily  through  their  feelings. 
It  seemed  to  them  that  their  evil  days  were  over,  that  an  Eng- 
lish Government  could  be  just  after  all,  and  that  a  United 
Africa  might  still  be  possible  under  the  English  flag. 

If  Lord  Carnarvon,  having  accomplished  one  piece  of  good 
work,  had  been  contented  to  let  well  alone,  had  he  made  as 
fair  an  arrangement  with  the  Transvaal  as  he  had  made  with 
the  Orange  Free  State  ;  still  more,  had  he  lent  her  a  hand  in 
her  native  difficulties,  there  would  have  again  been  at  least  a 
chance  of  the  confederation  which  he  desired.  "We  owed 
something  to  the  Dutch  of  the  Transvaal.  Bechuanas,  Mata- 
belies,  Amaswazis,  Zulus,  all  had  received  either  arms  or  en- 
couragement from  the  Diamond  Fields  to  annoy  them.  A 
little  help  in  money  to  the  Transvaal,  a  few  kind  words,  the 
concession  of  a  fair  western  frontier,  and  an  intimation  to  the 
Border  tribes  that  we  and  the  Dutch  were  henceforth  friends, 
and  that  an  injury  to  them  would  be  taken  as  an  injury  to  the 
British  Crown,  and  every  Dutchman  in  South  Africa  would 


Annexation  of  tJie  Transvaal.  53 

have  torn  the  leaves  out  of  his  book  of  grievances  and  have 
forgotten  them  for  ever.  But  Lord  Carnarvon  mistook  the 
nature  of  the  warm  feeling  which  he  had  aroused.  He  sup- 
posed it  to  be  in  favour  of  his  confederation  scheme,  with 
which  it  had  nothing  directly  to  do  ;  he  felt  that  to  bring 
about  a  South  African  Dominion  would  be  understood  in  Eng- 
land as  a  brilliant  piece  of  policy,  and  would  be  a  feather  in 
his  cap.  The  Transvaal  appeared  the  key  of  the  situation. 
With  the  Transvaal  an  English  province  again,  the  Orange 
Free  State  would  be  compelled  to  follow.  He  had  recovered 
in  some  degree  the  Dutch  confidence.  It  was  a  plant  of  ten- 
der growth,  but  he  believed  that  it  would  now  bear  pressure. 
The  life  of  English  ministries  is  short.  If  they  are  to  achieve 
anything  they  must  act  promptly,  or  they  may  leave  the  chance 
to  their  successors.  The  Transvaal  treasury  was  empty,  and 
an  occupation  of  it  would  at  the  moment  be  uuresisted.  He 
was  assured  by  the  South  African  English,  I  believe  without 
a  dissentient  voice,  that  the  Transvaal  farmers  were  sick  of 
their  independence,  and  would  welcome  annexation.  He 
could  count  on  the  support  of  both  parties  in  Parliament. 
Mr.  Courtney,  I  believe,  was  the  only  English  member  of  the 
Legislature  who  protested.  I  myself  was  certain  that  to  take 
over  (as  it  was  called)  the  Transvaal  would  undo  the  effect  of 
his  past  action,  and  would  bring  back  the  old  bitterness.  I 
gave  him  my  opinion,  but  I  could  not  expect  that  he  would 
believe  me  when  so  many  persons  who  must  know  the  country 
better  than  I  could  do  insisted  upon  the  opposite.  The  step 
was  taken.  The  '  South  African  Republic,'  so  proud  of  its 
independence  that  it  had  struck  a  coinage  of  its  own,  was  de- 
clared British  territory.  '  Confederation,'  which  had  been 
made  absolutely  impossible,  was  next  to  follow,  and  Sir  Bartle 
Frere  was  sent  to  the  Cape  as  governor,  to  carry  it  out.  How 
he  fared  is  fresh  in  our  memories.  His  task  was  from  the 
first  hopeless.  Yet  he  could  not  or  would  not  understand  it 


54  Oceana. 

to  be  hopeless.  He  was  not  even  told  the  truth.  It  was  said 
that  the  native  tribes  were  too  strong ;  that  if  South  Africa 
were  confederated  they  would  have  to  deal  with  the  Caffres, 
Basutos,  Zulus,  &c.,  single-handed,  and  that  they  were  not 
equal  to  it.  If  this  was  the  difficulty  Sir  Bartle  could  sweep 
it  away.  Hitherto  we  had  at  least  affected  a  wish  to  protect 
the  coloured  races.  Now  all  was  changed.  He  found  an 
excuse  in  a  paltry  Border  dispute  for  a  new  Caffre  war.  He 
carried  fire  and  sword  over  the  Kei,  dismissing  his  ministers, 
and  appointing  others  who  were  more  willing  to  go  along  with 
him  in  his  dangerous  course.  He  broke  up  the  Zulus  after  a 
resistance  which  won  for  them  more  credit  than  the  ultimate 
conquest  brought  honour  to  ourselves.  South  Africa  was  wet 
with  blood,  and  all  these  crimes  and  follies  had  been  com- 
mitted for  a  shadow  which  was  no  nearer  than  before.  The 
Zulus  had  been  enemies  of  the  Boers,  but  their  destruction 
had  not  reconciled  the  Boers  to  the  loss  of  their  liberty.  They 
demanded  back  their  independence  in  dogged,  determined 
tones.  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley's  campaign  against  Secocoeni, 
who  had  once  defeated  them,  made  no  difference.  The  Lib- 
eral party  in  England  began  to  declare  in  their  favour.  They 
learnt  at  last  that  the  Liberal  leader  had  condemned  the  an- 
nexation as  adopted  under  false  pretences  ;  and  when  the 
Liberals  came  into  power  in  1880  they  counted  with  certainty 
that  their  complaints  would  be  attended  to.  We  could  at 
that  time  have  withdrawn  with  dignity,  and  the  Boers  would 
have  perceived  again  that  when  we  were  convinced  of  a  mis- 
take we  were  willing  to  repair  it.  But  I  suppose  (and  this  is 
the  essential  difficulty  in  our  Colonial  relations),  that  the 
Government  knew  what  it  would  be  right  to  do,  but  were 
afraid  to  do  it  in  fear  of  an  adverse  vote  in  the  Parliament,  to 
which  they  were  responsible  ;  and  party  interests  at  home 
were  too  important  to  be  sacrificed  to  the  welfare  of  remote 
communities.  It  was  decided  that  before  the  complaints  of  the 


„  Majuba  Hill.  55 

Transvaal  Boers  could  be  heard  they  must  first  acknowledge 
the  Queen's  authority.  They  had  taken  arms  for  their  free- 
dom, and  did  not  choose  to  lay  them  down,  when  the  rulers 
of  England  had  themselves  admitted  that  they  were  in  the 
right.  Then  followed  the  war  which  we  all  remember,  where 
a  series  of  disasters  culminated  on  Majuba  Hill  and  the  death 
of  Sir  George  Colley. 

I,  for  one,  cannot  blame  the  Government  for  declining  to 
prosecute  further  a  bloody  struggle  in  a  cause  which  they  had 
already  condemned.  I  blame  them  rather  for  having  entered 
upon  it  at  all.  To  concede  after  defeat  what  might  have  been 
conceded  gracefully  when  our  defeat  was  on  both  sides  thought 
impossible,  was  not  without  a  nobleness  of  its  own ;  but  it  was 
to  diminish  infallibly  the  influence  of  England  in  South  Africa, 
and  to  elate  and  encourage  the  growing  party  whose  hope  was 
and  is  to  see  it  vanish  altogether.  Had  we  persisted,  superior 
strength  and  resources  must  have  succeeded  in  the  end.  But 
the  war  would  have  passed  beyond  the  limits  of  the  Transvaal. 
It  must  have  been  a  war  of  conquest  against  the  whole  Dutch 
population,  who  would  all  have  taken  part  in  it  We  should 
have  brought  a  scandal  on  our  name.  We  should  and  must 
have  brought  to  the  verge  of  destruction  a  brave  and  honour- 
able people.  We  should  have  provoked  the  censure — we 
might,  perhaps,  have  even  provoked  the  interposition — of 
other  Powers.  For  these  reasons  I  think  that  Mr.  Gladstone 
did  well  in  consenting  to  a  peace,  although  it  was  a  peace 
which  affected  painfully  the  position  and  feelings  of  the  Eng- 
lish South  African  colonists,  and  could  not  fail  to  leave  a  dan- 
gerous sting  behind  it.  The  peace  was  right.  It  was  a  pity 
only  that,  as  a  balm  to  our  wounded  pride,  we  insisted  on 
stipulations  which  could  not  or  would  not  be  observed,  while 
we  had  left  ourselves  no  means  of  enforcing  them.  Some  con- 
cession, I  suppose,  was  necessary  to  irritated  pride  at  home, 
but  the  conditions  which  we  inserted  in  the  treaty  were  a  leg- 


56  Oceana. 

acy  from  our  earlier  errors,  and  that  they  came  to  be  men- 
tioned at  all  was  a  pure  calamity.  Having  swallowed  the 
draught,  we  might  as  well  have  swallowed  it  completely,  with- 
out leaving  drops  in  the  bottom  of  the  cup.  The  origin  of  all 
the  anger  in  the  Transvaal  had  been  the  arming  the  native 
chiefs  against  them  from  the  Diamond  Fields.  These  chiefs 
had  remained  our  allies  in  the  war.  We  could  not,  or  thought 
we  could  not,  leave  them  without  taking  security  for  them 
and  their  territories.  I  think  it  would  have  been  better, 
though  it  might  have  seemed  unhandsome,  to  have  fallen  back 
on  the  principle  which  had  worked  so  well  while  it  lasted,  of 
the  Orange  River  treaty,  and  had  resolved  to  meddle  no  more 
in  the  disputes  between  the  Boers  and  these  tribes.  Had  we 
maintained  our  authority  we  could  have  maintained  the  tribes 
by  our  side  ;  but  to  abandon  the  country,  and  to  insist  at  the 
same  time  that  the  inhabitants  of  it  should  not  fall  into  their 
natural  relations,  was  to  reserve  artificially  a  certain  cause  of 
future  troubles.  The  chiefs,  whom  we  called  our  friends,  had 
been  drawn  into  an  attitude  of  open  menace  against  the  Boers. 
The  Boers  were  not  to  be  blamed  if  they  preferred  to  form 
settlements  of  their  own  in  those  territories,  that  they  might 
not  be  exposed  again  to  the  same  danger. 

However,  they  agreed  to  our  terms,  and  they  did  not  ob- 
serve them.  We  had  broken  the  treaty  of  Aliwal  North. 
They  broke  the  latter  treaty,  or  rather  their  Government  did 
not  prevent  individuals  among  them  from  breaking  it.  We 
took  note  of  their  faults  ;  we  forgot  our  own.  A  clamour  rose 
against  the  Boers'  perfidy.  The  missionaries,  who  have  never 
loved  them — the  English  in  the  colony,  who  were  smarting 
from  a  sense  of  humiliation — the  army,  sore  at  an  unavenged 
defeat — politicians,  jealous  for  the  honour  of  their  country — 
philanthropists,  whose  mission  in  life  is  the  championship  of 
innocent  negroes,  all  joined  in  the  cry  ;  while  '  her  Majesty's 
Opposition '  was  on  the  watch  to  take  advantage  of  any  open- 


Sir  Charles   Warren's  Expedition.  57 

ing  which  the  Government  might  give  them.  The  Cabinet 
was  called  on  to  send  out  an  expedition  to  expel  the  Boers  by 
force  from  our  allies'  territories,  and  they  dared  not  refuse. 
Yet  what  was  the  expedition  to  do?  The  Knight  of  La 
Mancha  delivered  the  lad  from  his  master's  whip,  made  the 
master  swear  to  pay  the  wages  which  the  boy  claimed,  and 
rode  on  his  way,  rejoicing  at  the  wrong  which  he  had  re- 
dressed. When  he  was  out  of  sight,  the  master  again  bound 
the  lad  to  the  tree  and  flogged  him  worse  than  before.  When 
we  had  driven  the  Boers  out  of  Bechuanaland,  were  we  to 
stay  there  ?  to  maintain  an  army  there  ?  If  yes,  who  was  to 
pay  for  it !  If  not,  the  tide  would  flow  in  again  when  we  re- 
tired. Between  an  evil  to  be  remedied  and  the  cost  of  the 
remedy,  there  must  always  be  some  proportion.  The  best  to 
be  looked  for  was  that  we  should  send  our  troops  up,  at  an 
expense  of,  perhaps,  a  million  of  money  to  the  taxpayers,  that 
they  should  find  no  enemy,  that  the  troops  should  remain 
till  we  were  tired  of  paying  for  them,  and  then  go  back 
with  a  confession  of  impotence.  To  raise  a  revenue  in  such 
a  country  would  be  impossible.  To  establish  an  authority 
there  which  could  be  self-maintaining  would  be  equally 
impossible.  And  what  were  we  to  do  with  a  province,  pro- 
ductive of  nothing  but  an  opportunity  of  spending  money 
indefinitely,  of  which  we  could  make  no  use,  and  to  which 
we  could  have  no  access  except  through  Cape  Colony,  while 
the  Cape  Colony  would  do  nothing  to  make  our  presence 
there  more  easy  to  us  ?  The  Cabinet  might  hope  that  when 
Bechuanaland  was  cleared  of  Boers,  the  Cape  Colony  would 
take  charge  of  it.  The  Cape  Colony,  it  was  certain  to  those 
who  understood  the  question,  would  do  nothing  of  the  kind. 
If  we  chose  to  take  Bechuanaland,  we  should  have  to  keep  it 
till  we  were  tired,  and  then  to  go  away  like  fools.  This  was 
the  best  which  we  could  look  for.  The  worst  was  a  renewal 
of  the  war  which  would  turn  to  a  war  of  races  between  the 


58  Oceana. 

Dutch  and  English  in  South  Africa.  The  slightest  impru- 
dence, or  the  mere  refusal  of  the  Boers  to  retire  without 
being  forced,  might  bring  it  on.  And  the  consequence  would 
be  incalculable.  The  danger  was  the  greater,  because  many 
of  those  who  were  the  most  active  in  promoting  the  expedition 
hoped  eagerly  that  war  would  be  the  issue  of  it.  They  were 
longing  to  wipe  off  the  stain  of  Majuba  Hill,  and  to  raise  the 
English  flag  at  Pretoria  again. 

The  prospect  was  so  alarming  that  to  prevent  the  expedition 
from  being  dispatched,  the  present  Cape  Premier,  Mi1.  Uping- 
ton,  went  himself  in  the  autumn  to  the  frontier,  and  made 
some  kind  of  arrangement  with  the  Transvaal  Government — 
an  arrangement  satisfactory  to  the  majority  of  the  whites  in 
the  colony.  As  we  have  chosen  to  establish  constitutional 
government  there,  the  views  of  the  majority  ought  to  be  ac- 
cepted. If  we  wish  South  Africa  to  be  governed  not  accord- 
ing to  the  views  of  the  majority,  we  must  govern  it  ourselves. 
The  English  Cabinet  rejected  Mr.  Upington's  agreement,  as 
too  favourable  to  the  Dutch.  The  preparations  were  con- 
tinued ;  8,000  men  were  sent  out,  under  the  command  of  Sir 
Charles  Warren,  to  proceed  to  Bechuanaland.  The  Cape 
Government  was  invited  to  co-operate.  The  Cape  Govern- 
ment declined  respectfully,  and  we  were  thus  again  launching 
into  an  enterprise  inconsistent  with  the  constitutional  princi- 
ples on  which  we  have  determined  that  South  Africa  should 
be  governed.  South  Africa  can  only  be  ruled  constitutionally 
by  conciliating  the  Dutch  people  there,  and  we  had  persisted 
from  the  beginning,  and  were  still  persisting,  in  affronting 
them  and  irritating  them.  I  conceive  that  Mr.  Gladstone's 
Cabinet,  if  left  to  their  own  judgment,  would  have  declined 
this  adventure.  But  the  step  was  taken.  The  last  detach- 
ment had  sailed  before  I  left  England,  and  the  prospect 
seemed  to  me  to  be  as  unpromising  as  our  worst  enemy  could 
wish.  The  Boers  might  have  no  right  to  the  farms  which 


Alternatives.  59 

they  were  occupying  ;  but  was  the  expulsion  of  them  worth 
the  consequences  which  it  might  involve  ?  The  territory  iii 
dispute  was  an  almost  waterless  wilderness.  A  week's  cost  of 
the  delivering  army  would  have  sent  the  complaining  chiefs 
away  rejoicing.  Some  measure  there  must  always  be  between 
an  object  to  be  gained,  and  the  cost  of  gaining  it.  The  ob- 
ject to  be  gained,  so  far  as  there  was  an  object  which  had 
reality  in  it,  was  revenge  for  Majuba  Hill.  The  cost  might 
not  improbably  be  the  loss  of  the  South  African  colonies. 
Public  opinion  in  England  would  certainly  not  permit  a  war 
of  extermination  against  the  Cape  Dutch,  and  the  alternative 
might  easily  arise  between  a  war  of  this  description  and  the 
evacuation  of  the  country.  As  little  would  it  allow  the  sup- 
pression of  the  Cape  constitution  and  a  military  government 
there.  Yet  what  other  government  would  be  possible,  if  we 
persisted  in  a  course  of  violent  action  which  the  Cape  parlia- 
ment and  ministry  disapproved  ?  I  could  see  no  light  at  all. 
The  only  prospect  that  had  hope  in  it  was  that  Sir  Charles 
Warren  would  march  up,  and  eventually  inarch  down  again, 
having  driven  his  plough  through  a  morass  which  must  close 
again  behind  it.  If  this  was  the  issue  it  would  be  only  ridicu- 
lous. But  just  now  we  could  hardly  afford  to  seem  ridicu- 
lous. 

It  is  of  course  certain  that  if  we  choose,  and  if  we  act  con- 
sistently with  conscientious  resolution,  we  can  govern  South 
Africa  as  we  govern  India  ;  we  can  have  a  native  policy  of 
our  own,  and  distribute  equal  justice  to  white  men  and  black 
under  our  own  magistrates  responsible  only  to  English  opin- 
ion. Under  such  a  rule  the  country  might  be  peaceable  and 
fairly  prosperous.  It  is  equally  certain  that  if  South  Africa 
is  to  rule  itself  under  a  constitutional  system,  we  must  cease 
to  impose  English  views  of  what  is  expedient  on  a  people  un- 
willing to  act  upon  them.  We  cannot  force  them  at  once  to 
govern  themselves  and  to  govern  in  the  way  which  we  our- 


60  Oceana. 

selves  desire.  You  can  take  a  horse  to  the  water,  but  you 
cannot  make  him  drink  ;  and  attempts  to  combine  contra- 
dictory methods  will  lead  in  the  future,  as  they  have  led  in 
the  past,  to  confusion  and  failure.  As  an  imperfect  believer 
in  the  value  of  popular  suffrage,  I  incline  myself  to  the  first 
alternative.  But  it  must  be  one  thing  or  the  other.  Incon- 
sistency is  worse  than  either.  I  was  approaching  the  Cape 
with  anxious  curiosity  to  learn  the  prospects  of  our  latest 
adventure, 


CHAPTEE  IV. 

Arrive  at  Cape  Town — A  disagreeable  surprise — Interviewers — State  of 
feeling  —  Contradictory  opinions — Prospects  of  Sir  Charles  Warren's 
expedition — Mr.  Upington — Sir  Hercules  Robinson — English  policy 
in  South  Africa. 

WE  steamed  into  Table  Bay  at  dawn  on  December  30.  The 
air,  though  it  was  early,  was  sultry  with  the  heat  of  mid- 
summer ;  fishing-boats  were  gliding  away  to  the  offing  before 
the  light  morning  breeze.  The  town  was  still  asleep  in  the 
shadow  of  the  great  mountains,  over  whose  level  crest  a  rosy 
mist  was  hanging.  In  all  the  world  there  is  perhaps  no  city 
so  beautifully  situated  as  Cape  Town  ;  the  grey  cliffs  seem  to 
overhang  it  like  Poseidon's  precipice  which  threatened  the 
city  of  Alcinous ;  from  the  base  a  forest  of  pines  slopes  up- 
wards wherever  trees  can  fasten  their  roots,  and  fills  the  en- 
tire valley  to  the  margin  of  the  houses. 

The  docks  had  been  enlarged  and  the  breakwater  carried 
far  out  since  I  had  seen  the  place  last.  A  few  ships  were  at 
anchor  in  its  shelter,  otherwise  there  were  no  signs  of  growth 
or  change.  Business  thrives  indifferently  in  a  troubled  po- 
litical atmosphere.  We  went  in  alongside  the  pier.  One  of 
the  first  persons  who  came  on  board  thrust  into  my  hand  the 
'  Argus '  of  the  previous  day.  I  opened  it  and  was  in  con- 
sternation. A  week  or  two  before  I  left  England,  a  gentle- 
man whom  I  knew  slightly  and  was  inclined  to  like,  had  called 
on  me  and  asked  me  a  number  of  questions,  which  I  had 
answered  with  the  unreserve  of  private  conversation.  Among 
other  things  we  had  talked  of  the  prospects  of  South  Africa, 


62  Oceana. 

and  I  had  spoken  freely,  because  I  supposed  myself  to  be 
speaking  in  confidence,  of  colonial  factions  and  tempers  out 
of  which  so  much  evil  had  arisen  and  might  again  arise.  I 
had  complained  especially  of  the  misleading  information  which 
had  been  supplied  to  the  English  Government,  and  of  the 
unscrupulous  character  of  part  of  the  Cape  press.  To  my 
horror,  yet  to  my  amusement  also,  I  found  the  whole  of  the 
conversation  in  print  (so  far  as  my  friend  had  remembered 
it),  filling  two  columns  of  the  newspaper,  and  a  furious  leader 
attached,  holding  me  up  to  indignation.  Interviewers  who 
are  taking  down  one's  words  ought  to  give  one  notice.  The 
system  anyway  is  questionable,  but  when  unacknowledged  is 
intolerable.  If  you  know  what  is  before  you,  you  can  at 
least  be  careful  Avhat  you  say,  and  make  sure  also  that  your 
friend  understands  what  you  say,  and  so  can  report  it  cor- 
rectly. 

Apology  was  hopeless,  and  explanation  impossible.  There 
was  no  time  for  it,  for  one  thing,  and,  for  another,  I  believed 
what  I  had  said  to  be  true,  and  therefore  could  not  unsay  it, 
though  it  had  never  been  meant  for  the  public. 

The  '  Argus '  people,  I  suppose,  had  seen  the  report  ac- 
cidentally in  a  London  paper,  and  having  heard  that  I  was 
coming,  had  prepared  this  pretty  reception  for  me.  It  was  a 
neat  and  characteristic  stroke,  which,  provoked  as  I  was,  I 
could  not  refuse  to  admire.  M.  -  —  the  oldest  friend  I  had 
in  the  Colony,  came  on  board  while  I  was  reflecting.  The 
whole  town  he  told  me  was  in  a  rage.  But,  after  all,  it  mat- 
tered little,  except  to  myself,  and  the  three  or  four  persons 
whom  I  wished  to  see  would  perhaps  forgive  me.  The  po- 
litical situation  was  precisely  what  I  expected.  M.  -  -  had 
accompanied  the  Premier  to  Bechuanaland,  when  making  the 
arrangement  with  the  Boers  which  Lord  Derby  had  declined 
to  ratify.  Had  it  been  accepted  the  Premier  would  have 
been  prepared  to  advise  the  Cape  Parliament  to  annex  the 


Opinions  of  Politicians.  63 

Bechuana  territory  to  the  Colony,  and  the  party  who  wished 
for  peace  would  have  been  all  satisfied.  But  the  English 
Government  would  not  have  it  so.  Sir  Charles  Warren  had 
arrived  and  had  gone  to  the  front ;  part  of  the  troops  had 
gone  up  with  him,  the  rest  were  to  follow  as  fast  as  possible. 
The  Colony  had  no  more  to  say  in  the  matter,  and  were  wait- 
ing to  see  the  result.  The  English  were  in  high  spirits,  they 
were  looking  confidently  to  another  war  in  which  the  mis- 
fortune of  Majuba  Hill  would  be  wiped  out  and  their  own 
position  made  more  tolerable.  Two  thousand  of  them  had 
volunteered  to  serve  in  this  expedition.  The  Dutch  as  a 
party  of  course  approved  of  the  Premier's  arrangement.  The 
Dutch  were  the  large  majority  in  the  Parliament  and  out  of 
it,  and  what  was  to  become  of  constitutional  government  V 
It  was  true  that  the  scene  of  Sir  Charles's  operations  was 
outside  the  Colonial  frontier.  But  the  Colony  was  the  right 
arm  of  South  Africa  ;  and  how  were  England  and  the  Colony 
to  get  on  together,  if  we  persisted  in  a  policy  which  three- 
fifths  of  its  white  inhabitants  detested  ? 

After  breakfast  we  went  up  the  town  and  I  paid  my  visits. 
As  to  my  delinquencies,  I  could  not  deny  them,  so  I  let  them 
take  their  chance.  Time  and  change  had  made  large  gaps  in 
my  old  circle  of  acquaintances.  Paterson  was  drowned,  Sir 
John  Molteno  had  retired  from  public  life,  and  was  absent  at  a 
watering-place.  The  Barrys,  Charles  and  Tom,  were  both  gone  ; 
De  Villiers — not  the  Chief  Justice,  but  another — was  dead  ; 
Saul  Solomon,  one  of  the  best  men  I  ever  knew,  I  had  left 
behind  me  in  bad  health  in  London  ;  but  there  were  still  a 
few  remaining  for  whose  judgment  I  had  a  high  respect,  of 
all  shades  of  opinion.  I  called  on  one  man  of  great  eminence, 
unconnected  politically  with  party,  yet  intensely  colonial  and 
related  personally  both  to  Dutch  and  English,  whom  I  found, 
to  my  surprise,  not  only  approving  of  Sir  Charles  Warren's 
expedition,  but  professing  to  believe  that  if  we  meant  to  re- 


64  Oceana. 

tain  our  position  in  South  Africa  we  had  no  alternative. 
This  gentleman  said  that  after  our  surrender  to  the  Transvaal, 
it  had  been  taken  for  granted  that  we  were  weary  of  South 
Africa  and  had  intended  to  retire  altogether.  The  future  had 
been  a  blank  on  which  no  one  had  dared  to  calculate.  They 
were  to  be  a  I'epublic.  They  were  to  be  under  the  pro- 
tection of  Germany  ;  anything  was  possible.  The  English 
in  the  colony  had  lost  heart ;  some  were  preparing  to 
leave  the  country ;  others,  who  could  not  leave,  were 
making  terms  with  the  winning  party.  He  for  one,  whose 
home  was  at  the  Cape,  had  been  depressed  and  disheart- 
ened. South  Africa,  he  was  convinced,  could  not  stand 
alone,  and  could  never  be  so  free  under  any  other  sovereignty 
as  it  had  been  under  the  English  Crown.  Till  within  the  last 
few  weeks,  and  till  the  resolution  of  the  English  Government 
was  known,  he  had  looked  at  the  prospect  with  dismay.  All 
was  now  changed.  The  Cape  English  knew  that  they  were 
not  to  be  deserted.  The  Dutch — the  sensible  part  of  them — 
would  acquiesce  when  they  saw  that  we  were  in  earnest.  I 
asked  him  what  would  happen  if  there  was  fighting.  He  said 
he  hoped  that  there  would  be  no  fighting,  though  he  could 
not  be  sure.  His  reason  for  thinking  so  appeared  to  me  a 
weak  one.  The  troops,  he  said,  were  to  go  as  police,  not  as 
soldiers.  The  sight  of  a  red  jacket  affected  Boers  as  it  affected 
bulls.  They  were  to  wear  corduroys  and  not  their  uniform. 
Perhaps  there  was  more  in  the  distinction  than  I  was  able  to 
understand.  He  did  not  conceal,  however,  that  he  thought 
that  the  English,  both  Government  and  individuals,  had  be- 
haved extremely  ill  in  South  Africa.  They  had  brought  their 
troubles  oil  themselves  ;  and  he  trusted  that  they  would  have 
learnt  their  lesson,  and  would  do  better  for  the  future.  They 
had  despised  the  Boers — had  not  treated  them  with  ordinary 
honesty,  and  in  illustration  he  told  me  of  a  recent  incident 
which  he  knew  to  be  true.  An  Englishman  had  called  at  a 


The  South  African  Dutch.  65 

Boer's  farm  in  the  Orange  Free  State,  pretending  to  be  starv- 
ing. The  Boer  took  him  into  his  service  out  of  charity,  and 
sent  him  to  Kimberley  in  charge  of  two  waggon-loads  of  tim- 
ber. The  man  sold  the  wood,  went  off  with  the  money,  and 
left  waggon  and  bullocks,  not  daring  to  dispose  of  these,  to 
find  their  own  way  home.  This  discreditable  story  was  only 
too  representative.  The  Boers  had  been  so  systematically 
abused  and  misrepresented  that  the  English  scarcely  regarded 
them  as  human  beings  to  whom  they  owed  any  moral  consid- 
eration. It  made  a  deeper  impression  upon  me  than  the  ap- 
proval of  Sir  Charles  Warren's  mission,  although  it  was  some- 
thing to  find  that  a  wise  and  temperate  man  who  knew  the 
circumstances  thoroughly,  and  had  no  prejudice,  could  ex- 
press such  an  opinion.  Events  may  prove  that  he  was  right, 
little  as  I  could  believe  it  then,  little  as  I  believe  it  now.  I 
fear  that  the  English  have  not  learnt  their  lesson.  The  2,000 
volunteers  may  be  useful  if  there  is  to  be  a  war  of  conquest, 
and  if  the  minority  are  to  rule  the  majority.  Otherwise  I  can- 
not see  that  their  coming  forward  has  improved  the  prospect. 
If  we  could  think  more  of  the  wrong  things  which  we  have 
done  ourselves,  and  less  of  the  wrong  things  which  we  accuse 
the  Boers  of  having  done,  I  believe  that  would  be  consider- 
ably more  effective. 

I  do  not  know  whether  I  should  have  ventured  to  call  on 
the  Premier.  Ten  years  ago  Mr.  Upington  had  just  arrived 
at  the  colony,  to  practise  at  the  bar.  I  had  occasionally  met 
him,  with  his  brilliant  and  beautiful  wife,  and  had  liked  what 
I  had  seen  of  both  of  them  ;  but  I  had  no  acquaintance  which 
would  have  entitled  me  to  intrude  upon  him  in  his  present 
position.  I  was  told,  however,  that  he  wished  to  see  me,  so  I 
went  to  the  office.  How  many  things  had  changed  since  I 
was  last  there,  and  how  much  was  not  changed.  The  players 
were  altered  ;  the  play  was  the  same  :  the  old  problems,  and 
the  old  suspicions  and  rivalries.  The  ten  years  had  greatly 
5 


06  Ocean  a. 

improved  Mr.  Upington's  appearance.  He  was  still  young* 
looking,  with  a  light  active  figure,  black  hair  and  moustache, 
black  eyes  with  a  genial  lively  expression,  a  well-set  mouth 
with  courage  and  decision  in  the  lines  of  it — a  man  who  knew 
what  he  thought  right,  and  was  not  to  be  frightened  out  of 
his  purpose.  To  me  he  was  frank  and  cordial ;  he  had  not 
much  time  to  give  me,  and  I  had  less  ;  so  he  spoke  at  once 
and  freely  on  the  situation.  He  had  been  opposed,  he  said,  to 
Sir  Charles  Warren's  expedition,  because  it  could  not  fail  to 
widen  the  existing  breach  between  the  English  and  the  Dutch  ; 
and  he  regretted  that  his  proposals  for  Bechuanaland  had  not 
been  accepted.  He  said,  and  with  evident  sincerity,  that  the 
Dutch  as  a  body  did  not  desire  to  break  the  connection  with 

Great  Britain.    He  repeated  what  Sir had  said,  that  they 

could  not  be  independent,  and  that  Germany,  if  they  fell  under 
German  influence,  would  not  leave  them  as  much  political  lib- 
erty as  they  were  allowed  by  England.  It  was  in  loyalty,  there- 
fore, and  not  in  disloyalty  that  he  deprecated  our  present  ac- 
tion. We  could  not  hope  to  retain  our  influence  in  South  Africa 
under  constitutional  forms,  if  we  persisted  in  disregarding 
Dutch  feeling,  and  an  armed  interference  in  opposition  to 
their  avowed  wishes  was  irritating  and  extremely  dangerous. 
He  himself  and  the  Presidents  of  the  two  Republics  would  do 
their  best  to  prevent  a  collision.  They  might  not  succeed. 
Tempers  on  both  sides  were  excited  and  inflammable.  The 
whole  country  was  like  a  loaded  magazine  which  an  acciden- 
tal spark  might  kindle,  and  all  South  Africa  would  then  be  in 
a  blaze.  But  he  trusted  that  the  Boers  would  see  that  there 
was  no  need  of  fighting.  They  had  only  to  sit  still.  In  that 
case  Sir  Charles  Warren  would  take  possession  of  the  disputed 
territory  without  opposition.  Plausible  grounds  might  be 
found  for  expelling  nineteen  or  twenty  Boer  families  who  had 
settled  there.  These  would  retire  into  the  Transvaal,  and  Sir 
Charles  would  then,  if  he  pleased,  fix  the  boundaries  of  such 


Sir  Charles   Warren's  Expedition.  67 

part  of  Bechuanaland  as  he  chose  to  occupy,  and  declare  it  a 
Crown  colony.  A  Crown  colony  it  would  have  to  be.  The 
Cape  Parliament  would  decline  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
a  province  so  acquired  except  on  their  own  conditions.  If  we 
took  it  we  must  keep  it  and  must  govern  it  ourselves,  since  no 
material  existed  out  of  which  a  local  government  could  be 
formed.  The  soil  was  too  barren  to  invite  colonisation  ;  the 
natives  too  poor  and  wretched  to  yield  the  smallest  revenue. 
A  small  garrison  would  be  useless  and  would  invite  attack  ; 
we  should  therefore  have  to  maintain  a  large  one.  On  those 
terms  we  could  stay  as  long  as  we  liked,  but  he  presumed 
that  the  English  taxpayer  would  tire  in  a  few  years  of  so  ex- 
pensive an  acquisition. 

This  was  common  sense,  so  obvious  that  the  promoters  of 
the  expedition  could  not  have  been  blind  to  it.  Their  desire 
was  probably  to  promote  a  general  war,  provoke  the  Dutch 
into  striking  the  first  blow,  and  force  England  to  put  out  its 
strength  to  crush  them.  I  cannot  believe  that  English  min- 
isters had  any  such  intention  ;  they  had  yielded  to  clamour 
and  done  the  least  which  they  could  be  allowed  to  do  ;  but 
none  the  less  they  have  entered  a  road  which  must  either  end 
in  impotence  or  in  the  suppression  of  the  constitution  which, 
when  it  suited  us,  we  forced  South  Africa  to  accept 

The  history  of  Ireland  is  repeating  itself — as  if  Ireland  was 
not  enough.  Spasmodic  violence  alternating  with  impatient 
dropping  of  the  reins  ;  first  severity  and  then  indulgence,  and 
then  severity  again  ;  with  no  persisting  in  any  one  system — 
a  process  which  drives  nations  mad  as  it  drives  children,  yet 
is  inevitable  in  every  dependency  belonging  to  us  which  is 
not  entirely  servile,  so  long  as  it  lies  at  the  will  and  mercy  of 
so  uncertain  a  body  as  the  British  Parliament. 

Of  all  persons  connected  with  South  African  administration, 
the  most  to  be  pitied  is  Sir  Hercules  Robinson,  the  Govern- 
or, and  I  think  he  knows  it  and  pities  himself.  He  has  been 


68  Oceana, 

accused  in  England  of  having  imperfectly  supported  Sir 
Charles  Warren.  When  I  was  at  Cape  Town  he  was  supposed 
to  belong  to  the  extreme  war  party,  and  to  wish  to  see  the 
question  of  Dutch  or  English  supremacy  fought  out  once  for 
all  in  the  field.  Poor  Sir  Hercules !  he  is  too  upright  a  man 
to  belong  to  any  party,  and  therefore  all  in  turn  abuse  him. 
He  is  simply  an  honourable  English  gentleman,  endeavouring 
to  do  his  duty  in  a  position  of  divided  responsibilities.  He 
is  the  constitutional  Governor  of  the  colony,  and  he  is  High 
Commissioner.  As  Governor  of  the  colony  he  has  to  be 
guided  by  his  ministers,  who  are  responsible  to  the  Cape 
Parliament.  As  High  Commissioner  he  has  an  undefined  au- 
thority all  over  South  Africa,  extending  even  to  the  independ- 
ent states,  as  protector  of  the  native  tribes.  But,  like  the 
Amphictyonic  Council,  he  has  a  voice  only,  without  a  force  of 
any  kind  to  cany  his  orders  into  effect ;  and  for  his  conduct 
in  this  capacity  he  is  responsible  to  his  employers  at  home, 
to  the  English  press,  and  to  every  dissatisfied  member  of  the 
House  of  Commons  who  chooses  to  call  him  to  account.  As 
High  Commissioner  he  has  charge  of  the  interests  which  Sir 
Charles  W'arren  was  sent  to  protect,  yet  Warren's  command 
was  made  independent  of  him.  If  he  pleased  his  responsible 
advisers,  he  would  be  rebuked  by  opinion  at  home.  If  he 
threw  himself  into  the  quarrel  on  the  English  side,  he  would 
strain  his  relations  with  the  Cape  Parliament  If  Warren's 
arrival  had  restored  his  consequence  as  British  representative, 
it  had  aggravated  the  tension  between  himself  and  his  min- 
istry. He  could  if  he  pleased  dismiss  Mr.  Upington,  dissolve 
the  legislature,  and  appeal  to  the  colony  ;  but  the  effect  could 
only  be  a  larger  majority,  which  would  bring  Mr.  Upington 
back,  and  make  his  situation  more  difficult  than  ever.  He 
explained  his  embarrassments  most  candidly  when  I  called 
upon  him.  He  said  that  they  would  perhaps  be  less  if  those 
who  had  the  real  power  had  the  responsibility  along  with  it 


Dutch  Leaders.  69 

But  the  Dutch  leaders  held  personally  aloof,  being  content  to 
dictate  the  policy  which  the  ministers  were  to  follow,  without 
choosing  to  come  personally  into  contact  with  himself.  I  left 
him  with  the  most  sincere  compassion.  No  English  colonial 
governor  had  ever  been  in  a  more  cruel  position,  and  perhaps 
none  has  ever  acted  with  more  prudence.  I  augured  well 
from  the  stoic  endurance  which  was  written  in  his  face. 
Good  perhaps  he  would  be  unable  to  do,  but  at  least  he 
would  not  lend  himself  to  evil. 

I  met  afterwards  one  of  those  '  Dutch  leaders '  to  whom  he 
had  referred — a  cool,  determined  gentleman,  with  faultless 
temper  and  manners,  who  knew  what  he  meant  himself  to  do 
if  no  one  else  knew.  The  Dutch  can  abide  their  time  and 
wait  the  issue  of  our  blunders.  President  Kruger  (President 
of  the  Transvaal)  said  to  me  in  London  that  every  step  which 
the  English  had  taken  in  South  Africa  during  the  last  twelve 
years,  had  been  what  he  would  have  himself  recommended  if 
he  had  wished  the  connection  with  England  to  be  terminated, 
with  the  single  exception  of  the  admission  of  wrong  which 
Loi'd  Carnarvon  had  made  to  the  Orange  Free  State,  and  the 
compensation  which  he  had  granted  for  the  Diamond  Fields. 
The  effect  of  that  concession  had  been  to  keep  the  Free  State 
back  when  the  Transvaal  was  fighting  for  its  independence  ; 
everything  else  had  been  what  the  most  advanced  Africander 

could  have  desired.  I  mentioned  this  to  Mr.  H ,  the 

gentleman  of  whom  I  am  speaking.  He  smiled  ominously,  as 
if  he  was  himself  of  the  same  opinion.  There  was  no  likeli- 
hood of  the  exception  being  repeated. 

I  concluded  from  all  that  I  heard  that  we  have  now  but  one 
hold  left  upon  the  South  African  Dutch,  and  that  is  their  fear 
of  the  Germans.  The  efforts  of  their  chiefs  to  prevent  the 
peace  from  being  broken  have  been  successful.  The  Boers  in 
Bechuanaland  have  retired  from  before  Sir  Charles  Warren, 
who  is  in  possession  of  his  vast  province,  and  is  now  asking 


70  Oceana. 

what  is  to  be  done  with  it  The  Cape  Parliament  have  re- 
fused to  annex  it  except  on  their  own  conditions,  as  the  Pre- 
mier said  that  it  would  refuse.  No  blood  has  been  spilt,  and 
no  excuse  has  been  given  for  a  march  upon  Pretoria.  The 
war  party  have  not  perhaps  altogether  abandoned  hope.  There 
is  now  a  cry  to  drive  the  Boers  out  of  Zululand,  and  this 
they  will  probably  resist.  If  it  comes  to  a  war,  they  will 
perhaps  ask  for  German  protection  before  they  submit,  and 
in  some  form  or  other  they  may  perhaps  obtain  it.  But 
they  prize  their  individual  freedom,  and  for  this  reason,  if  for 
no  other,  they  will  seek  German  aid  only  at  the  last  extrem- 
ity. If  English  Governments;  if  the  English  Parliament  and 
press,  will  tiy  to  make  the  best  of  the  Boers  instead  of  the 
worst,  if  they  can  make  up  their  minds  to  leave  the  Cape  alone, 
as  they  leave  Australia  and  Canada,  the  unfortunate  country 
may  breathe  again  ;  and  with  their  fine  soil  and  climate,  and 
wealth  of  minerals  and  jewels,  English,  Dutch,  Basutos,  Caf- 
fres,  and  Zulus  may  bury  the  hatchet,  and  live  and  prosper 
side  by  side.  Our  interferences  have  been  dictated  by  the 
highest  motives  ;  but  experience  has  told  us,  and  ought  to 
have  taught  us,  that  in  what  we  have  done  or  tried  to  do,  we 
have  aggravated  every  evil  which  we  most  desired  to  prevent. 
We  have  conciliated  neither  person  nor  party.  Native  chiefs 
may  profess  to  wish  for  our  alliance,  but  they  have  net  for- 
gotten the  Zulu  war  or  the  fate  of  Waterboer.  We  cannot 
afford  to  be  permanently  disinterested,  and  when  they  too 
turn  round  upon  us,  as  they  always  have  and  always  will,  we 
shall  have  brought  it  to  a  point  where  white  and  coloured 
men  alike  of  all  races  and  all  complexions  will  combine  to  ask 
us  to  take  ourselves  away. 

This  is  the  truth  about  South  Africa.  I,  for  my  part,  shall 
see  it  no  more,  and  this  book  contains  the  last  words  which  I 
shall  ever  write  about  it  The  anchor  is  up  in  the  'Australa- 
sian/ the  whistle  screams,  the  bell  rings  to  clear  the  ship  of 


The  Sea  Once  More.  71 

strangers  ;  we  steam  away  in  the  summer  twilight,  the  gray 
precipices  of  the  mountain  turning  crimson  in  the  glow  of  the 
sunset.  We  have  added  to  our  list  of  passengers  some  thirty 
English  and  Scotch,  who  are  flying  from  a  land  which,  like 
Ireland,  seems  lying  under  a  curse.  We  are  bound  now  for 
brighter  and  happier  regions,  beyond  the  shadow  of  English 
party  factions.  So  far,  I  had  been  in  waters  that  I  knew  ;  we 
were  entering  now  into  the  Southern  Ocean,  on  the  Great  Cir- 
cle, and  into  high  latitudes  and  polar  cold.  Australia  lies  due 
east  of  the  Cape,  but  our  course  from  Cape  Agulhas  is  south. 
The  nearest  road  would  lie  through  the  South  Pole  and  the 
great  barriers  of  ice. .  This  way  there  is  no  passage  ;  we  are 
to  keep  within  '  the  roaring  forties  ; '  but  though  it  is  mid- 
summer, and  the  nights  are  but  two  hours  long,  we  are  warned 
to  prepare  for  the  temperature  of  an  English  winter.  The 
thick  clothes  must  come  out  of  our  boxes  again  ;  the  fire  will 
be  relighted  in  the  saloon  ;  we  may  fall  in  with  icebergs  and 
see  snow  upon  our  decks  ;  and  then  in  three  weeks  we  shall 
be  again  in  ti'opical  sunshine  amidst  grapes  and  flowers. 


72  Oceana. 


CHAPTEE  V. 

The  Indian  Ocean — New  Year's  Night  at  sea — Extreme  cold — Waves  and 
currents — The  albatross — Passengers'  amusements — Modern  voyages 
— The  '  Odyssey  ' — Spiritual  truth — Continued  cold  at  midsummer. 

IT  cold  weather  lay  before  us  we  had  not  yet  reached  it.  After 
a  brilliant  sunset  the  sky  clouded,  and  wind  came  up  from  the 
west.  The  air  was  thick  and  close  ;  th,e  sea  rose,  the  ports 
were  shut,  and  as  the  waves  washed  over  the  deck,  the  sky- 
lights were  battened  down.  I  tried  the  deck  myself,  but  was 
driven  back  by  the  wet.  The  saloon,  when  I  went  down  again, 
smelt  of  dead  rats  or  other  horrors.  I  took  shelter  in  the  deck- 
house, and  lay  there  on  a  bench  till  morning,  snatching  such 
patches  of  sleep  as  were  to  be  caught  under  such  conditions. 
It  continued  wild  all  next  day,  but  the  temperature  cooled  and 
brought  back  life  and  freshness.  This  was  the  last  day  of  the 
year,  and  at  midnight  the  crew  rang  in  its  successor.  All  the 
bells  in  the  ship  were  set  swinging  ;  the  cooks'  boys  clanked 
the  pots  and  pans  ;  the  emigrants  sang  choral  songs.  The 
exact  moment  could  not  be  hit.  Time  is  '  made  '  at  midday, 
and  remains  fixed,  so  far  as  man  can  fix  it,  for  four-and-tweuty 
hours.  In  itself  it  varies,  of  course,  with  every  second  of  longi- 
tude. 1885,  however,  had  arrived  for  practical  purposes.  I 
slept  when  the  noise  was  over  as  I  had  not  slept  for  mouths, 
till  late  into  the  morning.  '  Adsit  omen,'  I  said  to  myself ; 
'  here  is  the  new  year.  Miy  I  and  those  belonging  to  me 
pass  through  it  without  sin.'  As  a  book  for  the  occasion, 
as  a  spiritual  bath  after  the  squalor  of  Cape  politics,  I  read 
Pindar,  the  purest  of  all  the  Greek  poets,  of  the  same  order 
with  Phidias  and  Praxiteles,  and  as  perfect  an  artist  in  words 


New   Year's  Night  at  Sea.  73 

as  they  in  marble.  Hard  he  is,  as  the  quartz  rock  in  which 
the  gold  is  embedded ;  but  when  you  can  force  your  way  into 
his  meaning,  it  is  like  glowing  fire.  His  delight  is  in  the 
noble  qualities  which  he  can  find  in  man,  and  of  all  the  base- 
nesses which  disfigure  man  he  hates  <f>66vo<;, '  envy,'  the  worst ; 
as  admiration  of  excellence  is  the  finest  part  of  our  nat- 
ure, so  envy  and  the  desire  to  depreciate  excellence  Pindar 
holds  to  be  the  meanest.  Great  souls,  he  says,  dwell  only 
with  what  is  good,  and  do  not  stoop  to  quarrel  with  its  oppo- 
site. The  backbiting  tongue  waits  upon  illustrious  actions, 
soiling  what  is  bright  and  beautiful,  and  giving  honour  to 
the  lo\v.  But  he  prays  that  his  tongue  may  not  be  like  any 
of  these  ;  and  he  desires  that  when  he  dies  he  may  leave 
his  children  a  name  unstained.  He  has  no  complainings  or 
gloomy  speculations.  Life  to  him  is  a  beautiful  thing,  to  be 
enjoyed  as  in  the  presence  of  the  gods  who  made  it — a  whole- 
some doctrine,  good  to  read  in  doubtful  or  desponding  hours. 
'If,'  he  says,  '  a  man  has  wealth  and  fortune  and  can  add  to 
these  honour,  let  him  be  content  and  aspire  to  no  more.  Let 
him  feast  in  peace  and  listen  to  the  music  of  song.  Let  the 
voice  rise  beside  the  goblet ;  let  him  mingle  the  cup,  the  sweet 
inspirer  of  hymns  of  praise,  and  pass  round  the  child  of  the 
vine  in  bowls  of  silver  twined  with  wreaths  woven  out  of 
righteousness.'  We  too,  onboard  the  'Australasian,'  had  not 
been  without  our  orgies  and  inspiring  draughts.  One  of  the 

emigrants  at  our  New  Year's  festival,  a  Mrs. ,  a  Moenad 

with  flashing  eyes,  and  long,  black,  snaky  hair,  had  plunged 
through  the  ship,  whiskey -bottle  in  hand,  distributing  drams. 
Her  catches  certainly  were  not  hymns  of  praise  ;  her  bowl 
was  not  wreathed  with  righteousness  ;  and  the  dame  herself, 
though  in  Corybantiau  frenzy,  was  redolent  of  Billingsgate. 

From  Pindar  to  Mrs. was  a  long  road  in  the  progress  of 

the  species  ;  but  she  did  what  she  could,  poor  woman,  to 
celebrate  the  occasion. 


74  Oceana. 

Fellow-passengers  in  a  ship  soon  become  intimate.  Meet- 
ing hour  after  hour  in  a  small  space,  and  sitting  at  the  same 
table,  they  pass  first  into  acquaintance  and  then  into  familiarity. 
They  like  to  have  someone  to  talk  to,  and  communicate  freely 
their  adventures  and  their  purposes.  Among  those  who  had 
joined  us  at  the  Cape,  there  was  a  gentleman  who  was  really 
interesting  to  me.  He  had  been  thirteen  years  at  the  Dia- 
mond Fields,  had  witnessed  all  its  distractions,  had  made 
some  kind  of  fortune,  and  was  now  flying  from  South  Africa 
as  from  a  country  past  saving.  He  filled  gaps  in  my  own  in- 
formation with  many  details ;  but  they  all  set  in  one  direc- 
tion. He  told  me  nothing  which  at  all  affected  my  already 
formed  opinions. 

When  we  had  been  three  days  out  the  weather  rapidly 
cooled.  The  temperature  of  the  water  sank  to  within  ten  de- 
grees of  freezing.  When  we  were  in  45°  south — the  latitude 
corresponding  to  Bordeaux — we  saw  no  actual  ice,  but  ice 
could  not  have  been  far  from  us.  We  shivered  in  the  saloon 
in  spite  of  the  fire  ;  we  piled  -blankets  over  ourselves  at  night, 
and  took  our  walks  on  deck  in  our  heaviest  ulsters.  From 
winter  to  the  heat  of  a  forcing  house,  from  the  tropics  back 
into  winter,  and  then  again  into  the  tropics,  are  transitions 
but  of  a  few  days  in  these  days  of  swift  steamers,  and  are 
less  trying  than  one  might  have  expected.  The  Great  Circle 
course  from  the  Cape  to  Australia  is  adopted  chiefly  to  shorten 
the  distance,  but  it  has  another  invaluable  advantage  to  sail- 
ing vessels  which  are  bound  eastward  ;  for  between  latitude 
40°  and  the  ice  of  the  South  Pole  a  steady  draught  of  air 
from  the  west  blows  perennially  all  through  the  year  and  all 
round  the  globe.  It  may  shift  a  point  or  two  to  north  of  west 
or  south,  but  west  it  always  is,  never  sinking  below  what  we 
call  a  stiff  breeze,  and  rising  often  to  a  gale  or  half  a  gale,  and 
constantly  therefore  there  is  a  heavy  sea,  nearly  a  thousand 
miles  broad,  rolling  round  the  earth  from  west  to  east.  The 


South  Latitudes.  75 

waves  were  magnificent :  I  believe  the  highest  ever  fallen  in 
with  are  in  these  latitudes.  Vessels  for  Australia  under  sail 
alone  accomplish  often  300  miles  a  day  on  the  course  on 
which  we  were  going.  If  they  are  bound  west  they  keep 
within  the  tropics,  which  these  winds  do  not  reach.  To  steam 
in  their  teeth  would  be  impossible,  even  for  the  most  power- 
ful ships  afloat.  It  struck  me  that  a  series  of  enormous  waves 
for  ever  moving  in  one  direction  over  so  large  a  part  of  the 
earth's  surface  might  in  some  degree  counteract  the  force 
which  is  supposed  to  be  slowly  stopping  the  rotation  of  our 
planet.  The  earth  turning  under  the  moon  generates  the 
tidal  wave,  which,  as  the  earth's  rotation  is  from  west  to  east, 
moves  itself  from  east  to  west.  A  certain  resistance  is  thus 
set  up  which,  within  a  vast  but  still  calculable  period  will 
check  the  rotation  altogether,  and  earth  and  moon  will  wheel 
on  together  through  space,  the  earth  turning  the  same  face 
to  the  moon  as  the  moon  does  now  to  the  earth.  Long  before 
this  consummation  is  reached  the  human  race  must  have 
ceased  to  exist,  so  that  the  condition  matters  little  to  us  to 
which  this  home  of  ours  is  eventually  to  be  reduced  ;  but  in 
the  system  of  nature  many  forces  are  in  operation  which  have 
threatened  to  make  an  end  of  us,  but  which  are  found  to  be 
neutralised  by  some  counterbalancing  check.  Waves  propa- 
gated steadily  in  any  direction  create  a  current ;  and  these 
great  waves  in  the  Southern  Ocean,  for  ever  moving  in  the 
opposite  direction  to  the  tidal  wave,  may  at  least  so  far  coun- 
teract it  as  to  add  a  few  million  years  to  the  period  during 
which  the  earth  will  be  habitable. 

From  the  Cape  to  Australia  the  distance  is  6,000  miles,  or 
a  quarter  of  the  circumference  of  the  globe.  Our  speed  was 
thirteen  knots  an  hour,  and  we  were  attended  by  a  bodyguard 
of  albatrosses,  Cape  hens,  and  sea-hawks — the  same  birds,  so 
the  sailors  said,  following  the  ship  without  resting  all  the 
way.  I  know  not  whether  this  be  so,  or  how  the  fact  has 


76  Oceana. 

been  ascertained.  One  large  gull  is  very  like  another,  and 
the  islands  in  the  middle  of  the  passage  are  their  principal 
breeding-places.  Anyway  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  of  them 
were  round  us  at  sunrise,  round  us  when  night  fell,  and  with 
us  again  in  the  morning.  They  are  very  beautiful  in  the 
great  ocean  solitude.  One  could  have  wished  that  Coleridge 
had  seen  an  albatross  on  the  wing  before  he  wrote  the  '  An- 
cient Mariner,'  that  the  grace  of  its  motion  might  have  re- 
ceived a  sufficient  description.  He  wheels  in  circles  round 
and  round,  and  for  ever  round,  the  ship — now  far  behind, 
now  sweeping  past  in  a  long  rapid  curve,  like  a  perfect  skater 
on  an  untouched  field  of  ice.  There  is  no  effort ;  watch  as 
closely  as  you  will,  yon  rarely  or  never  see  a  stroke  of  the 
mighty  pinion.  The  flight  is  generally  near  the  water,  often 
close  to  it.  You  lose  sight  of  the  bird  as  he  disappears  in 
the  hollow  between  the  waves,  and  catch  him  again  as  he 
rises  over  the  crest ;  but  how  he  rises  and  whence  comes  the 
propelling  force  is  to  the  eye  inexplicable ;  he  alters  merely 
the  angle  at  which  the  wings  are  inclined  ;  usually  they  are 
parallel  to  the  water  and  horizontal ;  but  when  he  turns  to 
ascend  or  makes  a  change  in  his  direction  the  wings  then 
point  at  an  angle,  one  to  the  sky,  the  other  to  the  water. 
Given  a  power  of  resistance  to  the  air,  and  the  air  itself  will 
do  the  rest,  just  as  the  kite  flies  ;  but  how  without  exertion 
is  the  resistance  caused  ?  However  it  be,  the  albatross  is  a 
grand  creature.  To  the  other  birds,  and  even  to  the  ship 
itself,  he  shows  a  stately  indifference,  as  if  he  had  been  simply 
ordered  to  attend  its  voyage  as  an  aerial  guardian,  but  dis- 
dained to  interest  himself  further. 

The  Cape  hen  is  an  inferior  brute  altogether.  He,  too,  is 
large.  One  that  flew  on  board  us  was  seven  feet  across  the 
wings.  He  is  brown,  hungry-looking,  with  a  powerful  hooked 
beak,  and  there  is  no  romance  in  his  reasons  for  pursuing  us. 
So  bold  is  he  that  he  sweeps  past  the  stern  within  reach  of  a 


Passengers'  Amusements.  77 

stick,  looking  on  the  water  for  any  scraps  which  the  cook's 
mate  may  throw  overboard,  and  glaring  on  crew  and  passen- 
gers with  a  blue,  cruel  eye,  as  if  he  would  like  to  see  them 
overboard  as  well,  and  to  have  a  chance  of  making  his  break- 
fast upon  them.  Besides  these,  Mother  Carey's  chickens 
skimmed  over  the  water  like  swallows,  with  other  small  vari- 
eties of  gull.  The  passengers'  chief  anxiety  was  to  shoot 
these  creatures,  not  that  they  could  make  any  use  of  them, 
for  the  ship  could  not  be  stopped  that  they  might  be  picked 
up,  not  entirely  to  show  their  skill,  for  if  they  had  been  dead 
things  drifting  in  the  wind  they  would  not  have  answered 
the  purpose,  nor  entirely,  I  suppose,  from  a  love  of  killing,  for 
ordinary  men  are  not  devils,  but  from  some  combination  of 
motives  difficult  to  analyse.  The  feathers  of  the  large  birds 
were  too  thick  for  the  shot  to  penetrate.  My  acquaintance 
from  the  Diamond  Fields  had  a  rifle  and  emptied  case  after 
case  of  cartridges  at  them,  for  the  most  part  in  vain.  A 
dancing  platform  to  stand  on,  and  an  object  moving  sixty 
miles  an  hour  are  not  favourable  to  ball  practice.  One  alba- 
tross, I  am  sorry  to  say,  was  hit  at  last.  It  fell  wounded  into 
the  water,  and  in  a  moment  the  whole  cannibal  flock  was 
tearing  it  to  pieces — not  a  pleasant  sight ;  but  how  about  the 
human  share  in  it?  The  birds  were  eating  their  brother, 
but  after  all  it  was  for  food  ;  wild  animals  never  kill  for  sport. 
Man  is  the  only  one  to  whom  the  torture  and  death  of  his 
fellow-creatures  is  amusing  in  itself. 

I  heard  Cardinal  Manning  once  say  that  there  could  be  no 
moral  obligation  on  the  part  of  man  to  the  lower  animals,  he 
having  a  soul  and  they  none.  He  was  speaking  of  vivisection 
and  condemning  it,  but  on  the  ground  not  that  it  was  unjust 
to  the  dogs  and  horses,  but  that  it  demoralised  the  operators. 
Our  passengers,  I  suppose,  would  have  taken  the  risk  of  being 
demoralised.  Being  lords  of  the  creation  they  were  doing  as 
they  pleased  with  their  own. 


78  Oceana. 

He  prayeth  well  who  loveth  well 
Both  bird,  and  man,  and  beast ; 
He  prayeth  best  who  loveth  best 
All  things  both  great  and  small, 
For  the  dear  God  who  loveth  us 
He  made  and  loveth  all. 

So  says  Coleridge.  We  admire  and  quote — but  we  hunt  and 
shoot  notwithstanding.  We  have  a  right  to  kill  for  our  din- 
ners ;  we  have  a  right  perhaps  to  kill  for  entertainment,  if  we 
please  to  use  it ;  but  why  do  we  find  killing  so  agreeable  ? 

The  days  went  rapidly  by.  The  cold  might  be  unpleasant, 
but  it  was  wholesome  ;  we  were  all  '  well ' — how  much  lies  in 
that  word — but  we  had  no  adventures.  We  passed  St.  Paul's 
Island  and  Kerguelen  Island,  one  to  the  south,  the  other  to 
the  north,  but  saw  neither.  The  great  ocean  steamers  are  not 
driven  into  port  by  stress  of  weather,  but  go  straight  upon 
their  way.  Voyages  have  thus  lost  their  romance.  No 
4  Odyssey '  is  possible  now,  no  '  Sindbad  the  Sailor,'  no  '  Rob- 
inson Crusoe,'  not  even  a  '  Gulliver's  Travels,'  only  a  Lady 
Brassey's  Travels.  The  steam  boiler  and  the  firm  blades  of 
the  screw  are  stronger  than  the  elements.  We  have  yoked 
horses  of  fire  to  our  sea-chariots  ;  the  wire-imprisoned  light- 
ning carries  our  messages  round  the  globe  swifter  than  Ariel ; 
the  elemental  forces  themselves  are  our  slaves,  and  slaves, 
strange  to  say,  of  the  meanest  as  well  as  of  the  noblest,  as  the 
genius  of  the  lamp  became  the  slave  of  the  African  magician. 
What,  after  all,  have  these  wonderful  achievements  done  to 
elevate  human  nature?  Human  nature  remains  as  it  was. 
Science  grows,  but  morality  is  stationary,  and  art  is  vulgar- 
ised. Not  here  lie  the  things  'necessary  to  salvation,'  not  the 
things  which  can  give  to  human  life  grace,  or  beauty,  or  dig- 
nity. 

Mankind,  it  seems,  are  equal  to  but  one  thing  at  a  time. 
Dispositions  change,  but  the  eras  as  they  pass  bequeath  to 
us  their  successive  legacies.  Though  the  conditions  of  an 


The  <  Odyssey?  TO 

•  Odyssey'  are  gone  for  ever,  it  was,  it  is,  and  cannot  cease  to 
be,  and  of  all  reading  is  the  most  delightful  at  sea.  I  had 
tried  to  combine  Homer  and  Shakespeare,  reading  them  al- 
ternately. But  they  would  not  mix.  The  genius  was  differ- 
ent. Shakespeare  interprets  to  us  our  own  time  and  our  own 
race.  The  Odyssey  is  a  voice  out  of  an  era  that  is  finished, 
and  is  linked  to  ours  only  by  the  identity  of  humanity.  Man 
is  the  same  at  heart,  and  the  sea  is  the  same,  and  the  fresh 
salt  breeze  breathes  through  its  lines.  I  escaped  from  the 
gull-shooting  to  my  cabin  sofa,  back  into  the  old  world  and 
the  adventures  of  the  Ithacan  prince.  A  fairy  tale  we  should 
now  call  it,  but  it  was  no  fairy  tale  to  those  who  listened,  or 
to  those  who  sang  the  story.  When  Ulysses  tells  Alcinous  of 
his  descent  into  hell,  the  old  king  does  not  smile  over  it  as 
at  a  dream.  'Thou  resemblest  not,'  he  answers,  'a  cheat  or 
a  deceiver,  of  whom  the  earth  contains  so  many — rogues  who 
trade  in  lies.  2ot  8"  l-rrl  fj.lv  P-JP&]  tTreW.  Thy  words  have 
form,  and  thy  brain  has  sense.  Thou  tellest  thy  experience 
like  a  bard.'  Where  were  the  lines  which  divided  truth  from 
falsehood  in  the  mind  of  Alcinous?  The  words  of  Ulysses 
had/brm.  Lies  of  the  accursed  sort  have  no  form,  and  can- 
not be  shaped  into  form.  Organic  form  is  possible  only  when 
there  is  life,  and  so  the  problem  returns  which  so  often  haunts 
us.  What  is  truth?  The  apple  falls  by  gravitation.  Whether 
Newton  ever  watched  an  apple  fall  and  drew  his  inference  in 
consequence,  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  universal  reality, 
which  remains  unaltered  if  the  rest  is  a  legend.  The  story 
of  the  apple  is  the  shell  The  truth  is  in  the  kernel  or  thing 
signified.  Sacred  history,  in  like  manner,  busy  only  to  con- 
vey spiritual  truth,  is  careless  as  Alcinous  of  enquiring  into 
fact.  It  takes  fact  or  legend  or  whatever  comes  to  hand,  and 
weaves  it  into  form.  The  beauty  of  the  form,  and  the  spirit 
which  animates  the  form,  are  the  guarantees  of  truth  and 
carry  their  witness  in  themselves.  Thus  we  are  rid  for  ever 


80  Oceana. 

of  critical  controversies.  The  spirit  is  set  free  from  the  letter, 
and  we  can  breathe  and  believe  in  peace.  Too  good  news  to 
be  true  !  Perhaps  so.  In  a  long  voyage,  where  we  can  do 
nothing  but  read  and  reflect,  such  thoughts  come  like  shad- 
ows upon  water  when  it  is  untouched  by  the  breeze.  The 
air  ruffles  it  again  and  they  are  gone.  '  We  shall  know  all 
about  it  in  another  and  a  better  world,'  as  the  American  store- 
keeper said,  when  so  many  shots  were  fired  and  no  one  was 
hit, 

KaKbv  avffjita\ta  /3d£fw. 
It  is  ill  to  speak  windy  words. 

The  cold  weather  persevered,  even  after  we  had  left  '  the 
forties'  again  and  turned  north.  The  temperature  of  the 
water  would  not  rise  ;  the  icy  currents  flow  right  on  to  the 
great  Australian  bight,  and  there  is  no  sense  of  warmth  till 
the  air  comes  heated  off  the  land.  The  wind  being  behind 
us,  the  deck  was  tolerable,  as  there  was  no  draught.  The 
ports  were  kept  closed  because  of  the  swell ;  but  the  fire  and 
a  wind-sail  kept  the  cabins  fresh.  We  were  well  provided  for 
every  way,  but  the  sameness  of  day  after  day  became  monot- 
onous. The  forward  passengers  drove  the  time  away  with 
cards,  the  cabin  passengers  with  backgammon.  At  each  noon 
there  was  an  excitement  to  know  where  we  were,  and  there 
was  a  raffle  over  the  number  of  miles  which  the  ship  had  run 
since  the  noon  preceding.  The  Cape  emigrants  interested 
me  more  and  more.  They  all  seemed  of  opinion  that  the 
Dutch  meant  to  try  conclusions  with  us  on  the  first  fair  op- 
portunity, and  that  the  Caffres,  Zulus,  and  all  the  warlike 
tribes  would  be  found  on  their  side.  The  English  reader 
may  think  it  strange  ;  to  them  it  did  not  seem  strange  at  all. 
We  were  growing  weary,  however,  every  one  of  us,  and  count- 
ing the  hours  before  we  should  hear  the  cry  of  land. 

By  the  middle  of  January  the  cold  slightly  relaxed.  The 
sun  shone  with  unusual  warmth,  and  tempted  us  to  lay  off 


Last  Hours  Before  Landing.  81 

our  overcoats.  We  could  venture  into  the  bath  in  the  morn- 
ings again.  For  many  nights  it  had  been  cloudy,  but  now 
the  sky  again  cleared.  The  nebula  in  Orion  shone  h'ke  a 
patch  of  the  Milky  Way.  The  black  chasm  at  the  south-west 
angle  of  the  Southern  Cross  showed  blacker  from  the  con- 
trast, the  more  brilliant  the  stars.  So  black  it  was  that  one 
would  have  called  it  a  passing  cloud  ;  but  the  clouds  went 
and  came,  and  the  inky  spot  remained  unchanged,  an  opening 
into  the  aAvful  solitude  of  unoccupied  space. 

At  length  the  last  day  came.  In  a  few  hours  we  were  to 
sight  Kangaroo  Island.  Books  were  packed  away,  and  prep- 
arations made  to  leave — my  last  reading  was  '  (Edipus  Colo- 
neus,'  the  most  majestic  of  all  the  Greek  plays.  Human  im- 
agination has  conceived  nothing  grander,  nothing  so  grand, 
as  the  mysterious  disappearance  of  the  blind  old  king,  the 
voice  calling  him  to  come  which  no  mortal  lips  had  uttered, 
the  sight  which  only  Theseus  was  allowed  to  look  on,  and 
Theseus,  shading  his  eyes  with  his  hand  before  a  scene  too 
awful  to  be  described.  It  Avas  the  highest  point  achieved  by 
the  Greek  branch  of  Adam's  race.  The  Australians,  among 
whom  I  was  so  soon  to  find  myself,  were  the  latest  develop- 
ment of  the  same  family.  Among  them  there  would  be  no 
(Edipus,  no  Theseus,  no  Sophocles,  yet  whatever  has  come 
out  of  man  has  its  root  in  man's  nature  ;  and,  if  progress  was 
not  a  dream,  who  could  say  what  future  of  intellectual  great- 
ness might  not  yet  lie  before  a  people  whose  national  life  was 
still  in  its  infancy  ? 
6 


82  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

First  sight  of  Australia — Bay  of  Adelaide — Sunday  Morning — The  Har- 
bour Master — Go  on  Shore — The  Port — Houses — Gardens — Adelaide 
City — The  Public  Gardens — Beauty  of  them — New  Acquaintances — 
The  Australian  Magpie — The  Laughing  Jackass — Interviewers — Talk 
of  Confederation — Sail  for  Melbourne — Aspect  of  the  Coast — Will- 
iamstown. 

FROM  the  Cape  to  Australia — from  political  discord,  the  con- 
flict of  races,  the  glittering  uniforms  and  the  tramp  of  battal- 
ions— from  intrigue  and  faction,  and  the  perpetual  interfer- 
ence of  the  Imperial  Government,  to  a  country  where  politics 
are  but  differences  of  opinion,  where  the  hand  of  the  Imperial 
Government  is  never  felt,  where  the  people  are  busy  with  their 
own  affairs,  and  the  harbours  are  crowded  with  ships,  and  the 
quays  with  loading  carts,  and  the  streets  with  men,  where 
everyone  seems  occupied,  and  everyone,  at  least  moderately 
contented — the  change  is  great  indeed.  The  climate  is  the 
same.  The  soil,  on  the  average,  is  equal ;  what  Australia  pro- 
duces, South  Africa  produces  with  equal  freedom.  In  Austra- 
lia, too,  there  is  a  mixture  of  races — English,  Germans,  and 
Chinese  ;  yet  in  one  all  is  life,  vigour,  and  harmony  ;  the  other 
lies  blighted,  and  every  effort  for  its  welfare  fails.  What  is 
the  explanation  of  so  vast  a  difference  ?  One  is  a  free  colony, 
the  other  is  a  conquered  country.  One  is  a  natural  and  healthy 
branch  from  the  parent  oak,  left  to  grow  as  nature  prompts 
it,  and  bearing  its  leaves  and  acorns  at  its  own  impulse.  No 
bands  or  ligaments  impede  the  action  of  the  vital  force.  The 
parent  tree  does  not  say  to  it,  You  shall  grow  in  this  shape, 
and  not  in  that ;  but  leaves  it  to  choose  its  own.  Thus  it 


Bay  and  Port  of  Adelaide.  83 

spreads  and  enlarges  its  girth,  and  roots  itself  each  year  more 
firmly  in  the  stem  from  which  it  has  sprung.  The  Cape,  to 
keep  the  same  simile,  is  a  branch  doing  its  best  to  thrive,  but 
withering  from  the  point  where  it  joins  the  trunk,  as  if  at  that 
spot  some  poison  was  infecting  it.  It  is  pleasant  to  turn  from 
shadow  to  sunshine,  from  a  gangrene  in  the  body  politic  of 
Oceana  to  a  country  where  the  eye  sees  something  fresh  to 
please  on  whichever  side  it  turns,  where  the  closest  acquaint- 
ance only  brings  out  more  distinctly  how  happy,  how  healthy 
English  life  can  be  in  this  far  off  dependency.  We  were 
bound  for  Melbourne  and  Sydney,  but  the  first  point  at  which 
we  were  to  touch  was  Adelaide,  named  after  William  the 
Fourth's  queen,  the  capital  of  South  Australia.  We  passed 
Kangaroo  Island  before  dawn  on  January  18,  thirty-nine  days 
after  leaving  Plymouth.  January  there  corresponds  to  our 
July,  and  when  we  anchored  it  was  on  a  soft  warm  summer 
morning. 

The  Bay  of  Adelaide  is  a  long  broad  estuary,  with  a  small 
liver  running  into  it  behind  a  sandbank,  which  forms  a  port 
like  the  harbour  at  Calais.  The  broad  Murray  falls  into  the 
sea  at  no  great  distance  to  the  westward  ;  but  is  cut  off  from 
Adelaide  by  a  line  of  mountains,  and  loses  itself  in  shoals  and 
sand  before  it  reaches  the  ocean.  The  site  for  the  town  was 
chosen  on  the  only  spot  upon  the  coast  where  vessels  have  a 
safe  basin  in  which  to  load  alongside  a  wharf.  The  town  it- 
self is  seven  miles  inland  in  a  hollow  below  the  hills.  The 
Port,  which  is  growing  fast  into  a  second  city,  is  connected 
with  it  by  a  railway  and  by  an  almost  unbroken  series  of 
villas.  Adelaide  is  not  more  than  fifty  years  old.  It  grew 
first  into  consequence  through  the  Burra  Burra  Coppermine 
— a  hill  of  virgin  metal  which  was  brought  there  by  sea  and 
smelted.  Burra  Burra  is  worked  out,  and  mine  and  smelting 
furnaces  lie  deserted  ;  but  Adelaide  has  found  a  safer  basis 
for  prosperity,  and  is  the  depot  of  an  enormous  corn  and 


84:  Oceana. 

wool  district  with  which  it  is  connected  by  arterial  railways. 
Five  years  ago  South  Australia  had  between  two  and  three 
million  acres  under  the  plough.  There  has  been  again  a  fur- 
ther increase.  The  crops  are  light,  but  the  grain  is  of  pe- 
culiar excellence. 

We  dropped  anchor  at  breakfast-time.  The  bay  was  shal- 
low, and  we  were  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  shore.  In  front 
of  us  were  long  lines  of  houses,  churches,  towers,  big  hotels 
and  warehouses;  wooden  jetties  ran  far  out  into  the  sea, 
and  across  the  sandbank  were  forests  of  masts,  where  ships 
were  riding  in  the  river  behind.  The  land  seemed  level  for 
ten  or  twelve  miles  inwards,  and  in  the  background  rose  a 
range  of  mountains  looking  brown  and  bare  from  the  heat, 
but  clothed  at  intervals  with  heavy  masses  of  timber,  and 
divided  by  ravines  which  in  the  winter  are  copious  water- 
courses. 

The  wheat  had  been  cut,  and  the  fields  which  three  months 
earlier  had  been  green  as  an  English  meadow,  looked  as  arid 
as  Castile.  It  was  Sunday  and  all  was  quiet.  A  steam  launch 
came  off,  bringing  a  port  official,  a  rough-spoken  but  good- 
natured  gentleman,  who  took  me  in  charge.  Our  stay  was  to 
be  brief  :  he  undertook  that  I  should  make  the  best  use  of 
the  time  which  the  captain  could  allow.  He  had  been  out 
fishing  with  the  Controller  of  the  Customs  when  we  hove  in 
sight.  They  had  caught  a  bream  or  two  and  a  mackerel  or 
two,  one  of  these  like  the  mackerel  of  the  Channel,  the  other, 
which  I  cannot  find  in  the  book  of  Australian  fish,  a  mack- 
erel evidently,  from  the  tail,  the  skin,  and  the  opal  tints,  but 
short,  broad,  and  shaped  like  a  tench.  They  saw  us  coming 
and  had  hauled  their  anchor  to  be  ready  for  us.  The  first 
thing  that  struck  me— and  the  impression  remained  during 
all  my  stay  in  Australia — was  the  pure  English  that  was 
spoken  there.  They  do  not  raise  the  voice  at  the  end  of  a 
sentence,  as  the  Americans  do,  as  if  with  a  challenge  to  differ 


Adelaide.  85 

from  them.  They  drop  it  courteously  like  ourselves.  No 
provincialism  has  yet  developed  itself.  The  tone  is  soft,  the 
language  good,  the  aspirates  in  the  right  places.  My  friend 
talked  fast  about  all  sorts  of  things  on  our  way  to  the  pier. 
When  we  landed  he  took  me  first  to  his  house  adjoining  it — 
a  sort  of  bungalow,  with  a  garden  and  a  few  trees  to  keep  off 
the  heat.  He  produced  a  bottle  of  Australian  hock,  light 
and  pleasantly  flavoured,  with  some  figs  and  apricots.  We 
then  walked  out,  to  look  about  us  under  the  shade  of  our 
umbrellas.  There  were  cottages  and  villas  everywhere  ;  the 
business  people  in  the  city  bringing  their  families  to  the  sea 
in  the  hot  weather  for  bathing.  They  were  low,  generally  of 
one  story,  shaded  with  large  india-rubber  trees,  the  fronts 
festooned  with  the  Bougain-Villiers,  the  hedges  of  purple 
tamarisk,  and  the  small  garden  bright  with  oleanders  and 
scarlet  geraniums.  After  walking  for  a  mile  we  reached  the 
Port.  Thirty  years  ago  the  spot  where  it  stands  was  a  mud 
swamp.  Piles  were  driven  in  ;  stone,  gravel,  earth,  and 
shingle  were  laid  on  in  tens  of  thousands  of  tons.  The  area 
was  raised  above  the  tideway,  made  firm  and  dry,  and  is  now 
laid  out  in  broad  quays,  and  covered  with  broad  handsome 
streets  and  terraces.  The  harbour  was  full  of  ships  :  great 
steamers,  great  liners,  coasting  schooners,  ships  of  all  sorts. 
Among  them  a  frigate  newly  painted,  and  seeming  to  be  in- 
tended rather  for  show  than  use,  like  a  suit  of  armour  with 
no  one  inside  it.  My  guide  growled  out,  '  There  is  our  har- 
bour defence  ship,  which  the  English  Government  insists  on 
our  maintaining.  It  is  worth  nothing,  and  never  will  be. 
Our  naval  defences  cost  us  25,OOOZ.  a  jear.  We  should  pay 
the  25,OOOZ.  to  the  Admiralty,  and  let  them  do  the  defence 
for  us.  They  can  manage  such  things  better  than  we  can.' 
This  seemed  likely  to  be  true  ;  and  I  heard  more  of  it  after- 
wards, as  will  be  told  in  its  place. 

After  looking  round  the  Port  we  stepped  into  the  railway 


86  Oceana. 

station.  Being  Sunday  and  a  holiday,  there  was  a  crowd  of 
clerks  on  their  way  to  the  town,  and  the  carriages  were  rap- 
idly filling.  We  found  seats  in  one  of  them  along  with  half- 
a-dozen  young  lads,  very  English  in  look  and  manner,  not 
lean  and  sun-dried,  but  fair,  fleshy,  lymphatic,  and  fresh-col- 
oured ;  for  the  rest,  well-dressed,  good-natured,  and  easy-go- 
ing, all  with  pipes  in  their  mouths,  all  polite  and  well-man- 
nered. The  fields  on  each  side  of  the  line  were  as  brown 
as  the  Sahara,  but  wheat  crops  had  been  reaped  upon  them 
a  month  before.  When  the  rain  came  they  would  grow 
green  again ;  and  even,  burnt  up  as  they  were,  cattle  and 
sheep  were  grazing  in  the  stubble.  We  ran  along  through 
an  avenue  of  stone  pines,  which  had  been  planted  eight  years 
back,  and  were  now  handsome  trees.  You  could  see  how 
fertile  the  soil  would  be  if  continually  irrigated,  by  the  coun- 
try houses  which  were  buried  in  foliage.  There  needs  but  a 
great  reservoir  in  the  mountains,  such  as  they  .have  made  for 
Melbourne,  and  the  plain  of  Adelaide  might  be  as  the  Gardens 
of  Ephraim. 

We  rose  slightly  from  the  sea,  and  at  the  end  of  the  seven 
miles  we  saw  below  us  in  a  basin,  with  the  river  winding 
through  it,  a  city  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  thousand  inhabitants, 
not  one  of  whom  has  ever  known,  or  will  know,  a  moment's 
anxiety  as  to  the  recurring  regularity  of  his  three  meals  a  day. 

Adelaide  is  already  a  large  child  for  its  years.  Its  streets 
are  laid  out  in  anticipation  of  a  larger  future — broad,  bold, 
and  ambitious.  Public  buildings,  law  courts,  Parliament 
house,  are  on  the  grand  scale.  Churches  of  all  denominations 
are  abundant  and  handsome — symptoms  all  of  a  people  well- 
to-do,  and  liking  to  have  an  exterior  worthy  of  them.  It  was 
busy  England  over  again,  set  free  from  limitations  of  space. 
There  were  the  same  faces,  the  same  voices,  the  same  shops 
and  names  on  them  ;  the  same  advertisements  making  hideous 
wall  and  hoarding,  the  same  endless  variety  of  church,  chapel, 


The  Public  Gardens.  87 

and  meeting-house.  I  asked  my  guide  what  a  building  was, 
a  little  different  from  the  rest.  '  Another  way  to  heaven,'  he 
answered,  impatiently.  The  Governor  being  absent,  and  be- 
ing without  acquaintances  in  Adelaide  or  time  to  form  any,  I 
had  no  calls  to  pay.  We  hired  a  carriage  and  drove  round 
the  environs  ;  and  then,  as  it  was  midday  and  hot,  we  went 
for  shelter  to  the  Botanical  Gardens. 

It  was  my  first  experience  of  the  success  of  the  Australian 
municipalities  in  this  department.  Whether  it  be  the  genius 
of  the  country,  or  some  development  of  the  sense  of  beauty 
from  the  general  easiness  of  life,  or  the  readiness  of  soil  and 
climate  to  respond  to  exertion,  certain  it  is  that  the  public 
gardens  in  the  Australian  towns  are  the  loveliest  in  the  world, 
and  that  no  cost  is  spared  in  securing  the  services  of  the  most 
eminent  horticulturists.  The  custodian  at  Adelaide,  Dr. 
Schomberg,  has  a  worldwide  reputation,  and  he  is  allowed 
free  scope  for  his  art.  Ornament  is  more  considered  than 
profit,  and  flowers  and  flowering  shrubs  than  fruit  trees.  He 
follows  Goethe's  rule  in  taking  care  of  the  beautiful,  and  leav- 
ing the  useful  to  take  care  of  itself.  I  was  sorry  to  miss  Dr. 
Schomberg  ;  we  looked  for  him  at  his  house,  but  he  was  ab- 
sent. The  gardens  not  being  open  to  the  public  on  Sundays 
till  the  afternoon,  we  had  them  to  ourselves,  and  could  wander 
at  leisure.  Trees  fi'om  all  parts  of  the  world  are  gathered  to- 
gether in  that  one  spot,  of  the  rarest  kinds.  The  flowers  with 
which  we  are  familiar  as  exotics  in  our  forcing  houses  luxuri- 
ate as  in  their  natural  home.  The  oleander  towers  and  spreads 
in  pale  pink  glory.  The  crimson  hibiscus  glows  among  the 
bananas,  passion  flowers — blue,  purple,  and  scarlet — hang  in 
careless  festoons  among  the  branches.  The  air  is  loaded  with 
perfume  from  Datura,  orange-flowers,  stephanotis,  and  endless 
varieties  of  jessamine.  Araucarias,  acacia-trees,  Norfolk  Island 
pines,  tulip-trees,  &c.,  are  dispersed  over  the  lawns,  grouped, 
not  as  science  would  order  them,  but  as  they  would  be  ar- 


88  Oceana. 

ranged  by  a  landscape  painter.  Avenues  of  dense  evergreens, 
the  Morton  Bay  fig-tree  conspicuous  among  them,  invite  you 
under  their  shade.  I  missed  two  things  only  :  for  our  delicate 
grass  there  is  buffalo  grass,  whose  coarse  fibre  no  care  in  mow- 
ing can  conceal ;  worse  than  that,  was  the  water  ;  there  was  a 
pond  on  which  Dr.  Schomberg  had  done  all  which  his  art 
could  accomplish,  with  water-lilies  white,  pink,  and  blue, 
swans  black  and  white,  and  particoloured  ducks  and  geese ; 
the  banks  were  fringed  with  weeping  willows  growing  to  the 
dimensions  of  vast  forest  trees  ;  but  the  water  itself  was  liquid 
mud,  so  dirty  that  the  pure  blue  of  the  sky  turned  brown 
when  reflected  on  i£.  Such  is  the  nature  of  the  rivers  and 
pools  in  that  country,  and  such  it  must  remain  till  the  engi- 
neers have  made  dams  across  the  mountain  valleys,  and  pre- 
served the  rain  as  it  falls  from  heaven  in  artificial  lakes.  All 
in  good  time  ;  even  Australians  cannot  do  everything  at  once. 
Thanks  to  my  guide  I  had  seen  the  outside  of  Adelaide  ;  the 
inside,  the  ways  and  characters  of  the  men  who  had  made  it, 
I  had  no  leisure  to  see.  An  interviewer  found  me  out,  and 
fired  questions  into  me  which  I  had  no  inclination  to  answer  ; 
so  we  made  our  way  to  the  station  again,  and  in  half  an  hour 
were  sheltered  at  our  friend's  bungalow,  with  a  handsome 
luncheon  before  us.  The  home  of  his  fishing  companion  of 
the  morning — the  Controller  of  the  Customs — was  a  few  yards 
distant.  Luncheon  over,  I  was  taken  across,  to  be  introduced. 
I  found  an  agreeable  and  intelligent  gentleman  in  an  airy 
room  with  cool  mats  instead  of  carpets,  opening  into  a  veran- 
dah, where  his  ladies  were  engaged  over  the  national  five 
o'clock  tea.  We  were  12,000  miles  from  England ;  yet  we 
were  in  England  still,  and  England  at  its  best,  so  far  as  I 
could  gather  from  the  conversation.  The  Controller  showed 
me  his  curiosities,  his  fish  which  he  had  caught  in  the  morn- 
ing, his  garden,  his  poultry-yard,  and  his  aviary,  in  which  last 
I  made  two  acquaintances  with  whom  I  afterwards  grew  into 


Two  New  Acquaintances.  89 

more  intimacy.  The  first  was  the  Australian  magpie — a  magpie 
certainly  with  the  same  green,  cunning  eye,  the  same  thievish 
nature,  the  same  mottled  coat ;  the  difference  between  him 
and  our  magpie  being  that  he  has  no  long  tail,  that  he  is 
rather  larger,  and  that,  instead  of  the  harsh  cry  of  his  Euro- 
pean relation,  he  has  the  sweetest  voice  of  all  Australian  birds, 
a  low  crooning  but  exquisitely  melodious  gurgle,  which  he 
intensely  enjoys.  A  dozen  of  them  will  gather  in  a  tree  to- 
gether and  hold  a  long  morning  concert.  My  second  new  ac- 
quaintance was  a  much  stranger  being — the  laughing  jackass 
of  the  forest.  This  creature  may  be  a  piece  of  metamorphosed 
humanity,  so  subtle  is  his  humour,. so  like  a  spoilt  child  he  is 
in  many  of  his  ways.  He  is  the  size  of  a  crow  Avith  the  shape 
of  a  jay,  and  is  of  a  greenish-brown  colour.  His  throat  is 
thick,  his  beak  large  and  strong,  and  in  the  woods  his  chief 
amusement  is  to  seize  hold  of  snakes  and  bite  their  heads  off. 
This  is  a  human  trait  in  him,  as  if  he  knew  something  about 
our  first  mother's  misfortune.  And  he  has  no  shyness  about 
him.  He  willingly  exchanges  his  liberty  for  good  quarters  in 
a  yard  or  on  a  lawn,  and  likes  well  to  have  human  beings 
about  him.  He  knows  his  master  and  mistress,  knows  what 
they  say  to  him,  knows  what  he  is  expected  to  do,  and  if  he 
doesn't  choose,  which  is  usually  the  case,  he  is  as  determined 
as  a  naughty  boy  not  to  do  it.  His  laugh  is  exactly  like  a 
man's — not  the  genial  sort,  but  malicious  and  mocking.  He 
was  told  to  laugh,  that  I  might  hear  him.  Not  a  note  would 
he  utter.  He  was  rebuked,  taken  in  hand,  and  admonished. 
No  laugh  came  from  him,  nor  can  I  construe  literally  the  words 
which  he  used  in  reply  ;  but  it  was  perfectly  clear  to  me  that 
he  was  swearing  worse  than  a  Spanish  muleteer,  and  he  went 
through  his  whole  vocabulary  before  he  would  stop. 

In  the  club  garden  at  Melbourne  I  had  afterwards  another 
chance  of  observing  the  temper  of  these  curious  birds.  A 
jackass  lived  there,  with  a  wing  clipped,  to  keep  him  out  of 


90  Oceana. 

mischief.  He  used  to  march  up  and  down  on  the  grass,  chat 
with  the  members  as  they  sat  in  the  verandah  with  their  news- 
papers, and  was  a  universal  favourite  for  his  wit  and  readiness. 
One  day,  as  I  was  alone  there,  I  saw  my  friend  sunning  him- 
self under  a  wall,  and  I  walked  up  to  talk  to  him.  He  liked 
generally  to  have  his  head  scratched,  as  parrots  do,  so  I  tried 
to  ingratiate  myself  in  this  way.  He  affected  to  be  bored,  sub- 
mitting with  an  indifferent  languid  air,  as  if  telling  me  that 
he  cared  nothing  about  me  and  would  much  prefer  to  be  let 
alone.  A  cat  who  had  been  basking  in  the  distance,  observed 
what  was  going  on,  and  seeing  how  ungraciously  my  advances 
were  received,  came  sloping  over  and  pushed  her  head  into 
my  hand,  intimating  that  she  at  least  would  like  to  be  stroked 
very  well.  It  was  delightful  to  see  the  jackass.  His  wicked 
little  eye  flashed  ;  he  glanced  at  the  cat,  went  for  her  with 
his  beak,  and  drove  her  off  the  field. 

I  had  a  pleasant  conversation  with  the  Controller  and  his 
family,  who  had  many  questions  to  ask  about  '  home '  and 
what  was  going  on  there.  I  would  gladly  have  stayed  longer ; 
but  the  evening  was  wearing  on  and  I  was  obliged  to  return  to 
the  ship.  On  the  jetty,  before  I  could  reach  the  launch,  I  was 
fairly  captured  by  an  interviewer  and  put  through  my  paces. 
Another  came  alongside  at  midnight  and  insisted  on  seeing 
me,  but  was  warned  off  by  the  kind  care  of  the  watch  on 
deck.  They  wanted  my  opinions  on  the  federation  of  the 
Australian  Colonies  with  one  another,  on  the  federation  of 
the  whole  of  them  with  the  mother  country, — most  of  all,  on 
the  sudden  squall  which  had  blown  up  since  we  left  England 
over  the  German  occupation  of  part  of  New  Guinea,  and  the 
supposed  delinquencies  of  the  Colonial  Minister.  Of  the  lat- 
ter I  knew  nothing,  and  had  never  heard  of  them.  On  federa- 
tion of  either  kind  I  had  come  to  learn  the  opinions  of  the 
Colonists,  not  to  offer  opinions  of  my  own.  Such  views  as  I 
had  myself  formed  were  tentative  and  provisional,  subject  to 


Interviewers  and  their  Objects.  91 

correction  in  every  detail  by  fuller  information.  Earnestly 
desirous  I  was  and  always  had  been  to  see  a  united  Oceana — 
united  as  closely  as  the  American  States  are  united — but  of 
how  the  union  was  to  be  brought  about  I  had  not  a  notion 
which  I  did  not  hold  with  the  utmost  diffidence,  and  I  was 
particularly  unwilling  to  set  my  crude  ideas  flying  in  the  news- 
papers. I  evaded  my  cross-questioners  as  well  as  I  could,  and 
I  regretted  afterwards  the  few  humble  sentiments  which  I 
allowed  to  be  drawn  out  of  me.  However,  as  I  found  event- 
ually, the  good  people  meant  no  harm.  Their  object  generally 
seemed  to  be  the  same  as  my  own.  I  had  nothing  to  com- 
plain of,  except  a  curiosity  which,  in  itself,  was  innocent 
enough. 

We  sailed  for  Melbourne  the  next  morning,  where  we  in- 
tended to  land  finally  and  remain.  The  day  was  still  bright ; 
the  sea  blue-green  in  the  shallow  water.  The  albatrosses  had 
left  us  :  we  were  attended  now  by  flights  of  the  small,  beau- 
tifully white,  Australian  gull.  The  coast  was  generally  bold, 
but  it  opened  at  intervals  into  wooded  valleys  with  sandy 
beaches,  where  were  solitary  cottages  of  fishermen  who  sup- 
plied the  Adelaide  market.  The  fish  are  not  of  the  highest 
order,  but  good  enough  and  abundant.  Oysters  were  every- 
where ;  no  crabs  or  lobsters,  but  crayfish  in  plenty,  which  are 
an  excellent  substitute.  We  passed  a  point  where  a  steamer 
had  been  lately  run  ashore.  The  captain,  I  was  told,  had 
been  agitated  by  having  an  English  duke  on  board,  and  had 
not  been  entirely  himself.  When  we  drew  clear  of  the  islands 
the  character  of  the  rocks  altered,  and  the  coast  became  like 
the  coast  of  Suffolk — low  perpendicular  cliffs  of  pale  brown 
sandstone,  which  was  unequally  yielding  to  the  unresting 
wash  of  the  waves,  and  was  shaped  by  light  and  shadow  into 
buttresses  and  bastions.  Behind  the  crags  the  land  was  green 
and  undulating,  and  extremely  rich.  They  call  it  the  Potato 
Land  ;  all  the  Australian  sea-towns  are  supplied  from  it. 


92  Oceana. 

One  more  night,  and  the  day  following  was  the  last  of  oui 
voyage,  the  finish  of  an  undisturbed  six  weeks,  the  sea  all 
round  me,  and  the  blue  sky  by  day  and  the  stars  by  night 
over  my  head,  and  the  fresh  clean  breezes  to  blow  away  dust 
and  care.     I  hope  I  was  properly  grateful  for  so  blessed  a  re- 
lief.     A  few  more  hours  and  we  were  to  bid  adieu  to  the 
'Australasian,'  her  light-souled  but  good  and  clever  captain, 
her  ever  kind  and  attentive  officers.    She  had  earned  us  safely 
down  under,  as  the  Square  gardener  put  it  to  me  afterwards 
in  London,  scarcely  able  to  believe  it  could  be  reality.     I  was 
asleep  when  we  passed  between  the  '  Heads  '  at  Port  Philip, 
and  was  only  conscious  of  the  change  from  the  long  ocean 
roll  outside  to  the  calm  of  the  great  bay.     When  I  woke  and 
went  on  deck  we  were  alongside  the  wharf  at  Williamstowu, 
with   Melbourne  straight    before  us  five  miles  off,  and   the 
harbour  reaching  all  the  way  to  it.     In  my  life  I  have  never 
been  more  astonished.     Adelaide  had  seemed  a  great  thing 
to  me,  but  Melbourne  was  a  real  wonder.     Williamstown  is 
the  port,  from  which  vessels  outward  bound  take  their  de- 
parture.    The  splendid  docks  there  were  choked  with  ships 
loading  and  unloading.     Huge  steamers — five,  six,  or  seven 
thousand  tons — from  all  parts  of  the  world,  were  lying  round 
us  or  beside  us.     In  the  distance  we  saw  the  smoke  of  others. 
Between  us  and  the  city  there  seemed  scarcely  to  be  room  for 
the  vessels  anchored  there  ;  from  their  masthead  or  stern  the 
English  flag  blowing  out  proud  and  free,  and  welcoming  us 
to  Australia  as  to  a  second  home.     Steam  launches,  steam 
ferry-boats,  tugs,  coasting  steamers  were  flying  to  and  fro, 
leaving  behind  them,  alas  !  black  volumes  of  smoke,  through 
which  the  city  loomed  large  as  Liverpool.     The  smoke  is  a 
misfortune.     The  Sydney  coal,  cheap  as  it  is,  and  excellent 
for  all  useful  purposes,  is  fuliginous  beyond  any  coal  I  have 
fallen  in  with,  and  on  windless  mornings,  like  that  on  which 
we  arrived,  a  black  cloud  envelopes  harbour  and  town.     But 


First  Right  of  Melbourne.  93 

it  is  seldom  thus,  and  there  is  generally  a  breeze.  Even  the 
smoke  itself  means  business,  life,  energy  ;  and  along  the  shore 
for  miles  and  miles  rose  the  villas  and  plantations  of  the  Mel- 
bourne magnates — suburban,  unromantic.  but  all  the  more 
reminding  one  of  England,  and  telling  of  wealth  and  enjoy- 
ment. 


Oceana. 


CHAPTER 

Landing  at  Melbourne — First  impression  of  the  city — Sir  Henry  Loch 
—Government  House— Party  assembled  there — Agitation  about  New 
•  Guinea— The  Monroe  doctrine  in  the  Pacific — Melbourne  Gardens — 
Victorian  Society — The  Premier — Federation,  local  and  imperial — 
The  Astronomer  Royal — The  Observatory — English  Institutions  re- 
produced— Proposed  tour  in  the  Colony — Melbourne  amusements — 
Music— The  Theatre — Sunday  at  Melbourne — Night  at  the  Observa- 
tory. 

WE  landed  at  our  leisure  at  Williamstown,  from  which  a  rail- 
way train  was  to  take  us  to  the  city.  We  were  in  no  hurry, 
for  the  day  was  still  early,  and  we  had  no  plans,  save  to  find 
an  hotel  in  the  course  of  it.  A  'nigger,'  who  must  have 
weighed  thirty  stone,  wheeled  our  luggage  to  the  station  in  a 
hand  cart  As  at  Adelaide,  I  was  impressed  by  the  good  Eng- 
lish and  good  manners  of  the  station  officials.  There  was  an 
American  smartness  about  them,  but  it  was  American  with  a 
difference.  Something  might  be  due  to  the  climate.  Manners 
soften  of  themselves  where  tempers  are  never  ruffled  by  cold. 
The  line  makes  a  long  circuit  by  the  shore  ;  we  had  ten  miles 
to  go.  The  fields  were  enclosed  all  the  way  with  the  Austra- 
lian rails  one  hears  riding  men  talk  about — heavy  timbers  four 
feet  and  a  half  or  five  feet  high.  Clusters  of  wooden  houses 
were  sprinkled  about,  growing  thicker  as  we  advanced,  and 
painted  white  to  keep  off  the  sun.  Gardens  and  flowers  were, 
as  usual,  universal  Melbourne  station  was,  like  other  met- 
ropolitan stations  in  the  world,  vast,  crowded,  and  unbeauti- 
ful.  Again  some  ingenuity  was  needed  to  escape  the  news- 
paper people  ;  we  extricated  ourselves  only  at  last  by  a  promise 


Melbourne.  95 

of  future  submission,  and  got  away  in  a  cab  with  our  luggage. 
I  was  disappointed,  after  Adelaide,  with  the  first  appearance 
of  the  streets.  Melbourne  is  twice  as  large,  and  many  times 
more  than  twice  as  rich.  The  population  of  it  is  300,000, 
who  are  as  well  off  as  any  equal  number  of  people  in  the  whole 
world.  But  the  city  has  grown  hastily,  and  carries  the  signs 
of  it  on  the  surface.  The  streets  are  broad.  There  are  splen- 
did single  buildings  :  Town  Hall,  University,  Parliament- 
houses,  public  offices,  besides  banks,  exchanges,  and  again 
churches,  &c.  There  are  superb  shops  too,  gorgeous  as  any 
in  London  or  Paris.  But  side  by  side  with  them  you  see 
houses  little  better  than  sheds.  People  have  built  as  they 
could,  and  as  their  means  allowed  them,  and  they  have  been 
too  busy  to  study  appearances.  But  they  have  boundless 
wealth,  and  as  boundless  ambition  and  self-confidence.  They 
are  proud  of  themselves  and  of  what  they  have  done,  and  will 
soon  polish  up  their  city  when  they  can  look  about  them  at 
their  leisure. 

At  the  hotel  to  which  we  were  taken  we  found  a  message 
that  we  were  not  to  remain  there,  but  were  expected  at  Govern- 
ment House.  I  had  already  a  slight  acquaintance  with  Sir 
Henry  and  Lady  Loch — an  acquaintance  which  I  was  de- 
lighted to  think  that  I  should  improve  into  intimacy,  while, 
as  the  Governor's  guest,  I  should  see  every  one  that  I  wished 
to  see.  I  said  there  could  be  no  Odyssey  now,  but  Sir  Henry 
Loch  has  passed  through  at  least  one  adventure  which  Ulysses 
might  have  been  told  in  Alcinous's  hall,  and  to  which  the 
Phoeacian  youth  would  have  listened  with  burning  interest. 
He  had  been  a  prisoner  in  the  Chinese  war,  sentenced  to  be 
executed,  and  taken  out  every  morning  for  a  fortnight,  in  the 
belief  that  he  was  to  be  killed  then  and  there — a  unique  ex- 
perience, enough  in  itself  to  have  killed  most  men  without  the 
executioner's  assistance.  The  composure  with  which  he  had 
borne  the  trial  marked  him  as  an  exceptional  person.  He 


96  Oceana. 

was  taken  into  the  public  service,  and  had  been  made  at  last 
Governor  of  the  Isle  of  Man,  where  he  ruled  long  as  the 
constitutional  sovereign  of  a  singular  people,  and  achieved 
the  highest  success  now-a-days  possible — the  success  of  being 
never  spoken  of  outside  his  dominions.  His  Manx  subjects 
had  been  devoted  to  him  ;  his  reign  lasted  fifteen  years ;  he 
had  been  like  a  Greek  /Sao-i'Aevs,  pater  patrise,  or  father  of  his 
people  ;  and  when  the  authorities  in  Downing  Street  began 
to  feel  that  they  must  change  their  ways  with  the  colonies 
and  raise  the  quality  of  the  governors,  he  had  been  selected 
to  preside  over  Victoria — a  choice  most  commendable,  for  a 
fitter  man  could  not  have  been  found.  There  was  a  time 
when  men  were  selected  to  represent  their  sovereign  in  the 
colonies  for  other  reasons  than  fitness.  I  am  an  old  man 
now,  and  my  memory  goes  a  long  way  back.  I  remember 

asking  a  noble  duke  why  Lord had  been  made  governor 

of  a  certain  colony.  He  answered  :  '  Because  he  is  a  bank- 
rupt peer.'  'They  asked  me,' the  duke  continued,  'whether 
I  would  undertake  such  a  thing  ;  I  said  I  was  not  qualified  ; 
I  was  still  solvent.'  Now  of  course  under  our  reformed  Par- 
liament such  appointments  are  impossible.  Sir  Henry  Loch 
at  Melbourne  is  a  fit  representative  of  the  better  order  of 
things. 

Government  House  stands  in  a  commanding  position  on  a 
high,  wooded  plateau,  a  mile  from  the  town  on  the  opposite 
side  of  the  Yarra,  overlooking  the  park  and  the  river  valley. 
In  the  great  days  of  the  gold  digging,  when  Victoria  was 
first  rising  into  consequence,  and  the  State  had  not  settled 
into  its  saddle,  no  official  residence  could  be  provided  for  the 
Governor,  and  the  colony  had  munificently  allowed,  I  believe, 
15,00(M.  a  year,  out  of  which  he  was  to  furnish  himself  as  he 
pleased.  When  the  parliamentary  constitution  was  conceded, 
a  more  dignified  arrangement  was  resolved  upon,  better 
suited  to  the  colony's  ambitions.  An  architect  was  selected, 


Government  House  at  Melbourne.  97 

a  site  was  chosen,  and  the  architect,  as  I  heard  the  story, 
was  directed  to  produce  a  plan.  He  sketched  a  Gothic  con- 
struction which  was  wisely  disapproved  as  out  of  character 
with  the  climate.  The  minister  of  public  works  asked  to 
look  at  his  book  of  designs.  On  the  first  page  was  Osborne. 
'  Something  like  that,'  the  minister  said,  '  on  a  scale  slightly 
reduced  ; '  and  the  result  was  the  present  palace,  for  such  it 
is — not  a  very  handsome  building,  in  some  aspects  even  ugly, 
but  large  and  imposing.  There  is  a  tower  in  the  centre  of  it, 
a  hundred  and  fifty  feet  high,  on  which  waves  the  Imperial 
flag.  There  are  the  due  lodges,  approaches,  porticoes,  vast  re- 
ceptiou  rooms,  vast  official  dining  room  and  drawing  room, 
and  the  biggest  ball-room  in  the  world,  all  on  a  scale  with 
the  pride  of  the  aspiring  little  State,  with  the  private  part  of 
the  house  divided  off  by  doors  and  passages,  and  having  its 
own  separate  entrance.  The  expense  was  great,  and  the  Gov- 
ernor was  the  principal  sufferer.  The  big  ball-room  and  the 
accompanying  entertainments  are  a  heavy  demand  on  his  now 
reduced  allowance. 

We  found  Sir  Henry  surrounded  by  his  aides-de-camp, 
among  whom  were  two  young  aristocrats  sent  to  study  co- 
lonial institutions  under  him,  and  a  house  full  of  distin- 
guished visitors,  among  whom  was  E ,  a  Scotch  repre- 
sentative peer,  quiet,  humorous,  sensible,  slightly  scornful  as 
you  began  to  see  when  you  knew  him  better,  and  rather 
proud  of  being  known  at  home  as  '  the  worst-dressed  man  in 

London.'     Besides  E* there  were  several  others — a  really 

brilliant  party  ;  Sir  Henry  being  hospitable,  and  anxious  to 
promote  acquaintance  between  English  travellers  and  the 
leading  colonists.  He  was  himself  just  then  in  warm  water 
from  the  excitement  caused  by  the  German  invasion  of  New 
Guinea,  as  it  was  called,  of  which  I  had  heard  at  Adelaide. 
The  Australians  naturally  enough  regard  themselves  as  the 
leading  power  in  the  South  Pacific,  and  besides  their  own 
7 


98  Oceana. 

immense  continent  look  on  the  adjacent  islands  as  theii 
proper  inheritance.  The  Americans  have  their  Monroe  doc- 
trine, prohibiting  European  nations  from  settling  on  their 
side  of  the  Atlantic,  except  as  American  subjects.  Australia 
— especially  the  ambitious,  pushing  Melbourne — which  claims 
to  be  the  leading  State,  had  unconsciously  come  to  a  similar 
conclusion  respecting  all  the  neighbouring  territory.  The 
Australians  meant  it  to  be  theirs  as  soon  as  they  had  leisure 
to  occupy  it ;  and  to  learn  that  close  at  their  doors,  as  they 
said,  the  dreadful  Bismarck  contemplated  a  rival  establish- 
ment had  stirred  them  into  a  temper  at  the  moment  of  my 
arrival.  A  German  colony  2,000  miles  away  did  not  seem 
likely  to  hurt  them,  but  it  was  a  beginning  which  might  lead 
to  consequences,  and  was  the  violation  of  a  principle.  We 
at  home  take  such  things  more  coolly  ;  but  young  nations 
are  like  young  men,  sensitive  and  passionate  ;  and  even  their 
most  experienced  statesmen  do  not  escape  the  contagion. 
The  irritation  over  the  French  convict  station  in  New  Cal- 
edonia had  but  half-subsided.  The  French  concessions  in 
that  matter  were  held  to  be  far  from  sufficient.  Their  griev- 
ances on  this  point  had  been  legitimate  enough  ;  but  now  on 
the  back  of  it  came  looming  a  danger  which  touched  their 
dignity  and  their  imagination.  They  saw  at  their  doors,  in  the 
intended  New  Guinea  settlement,  German  soldiers,  German 
fleets,  German  competition  with  their  trade,  a  great  rival  Ger- 
man influence  menacing  their  wealth,  their  institutions,  their 
independence.  It  was  a  thing  too  horrible  to  contemplate, 
a  thing  to  be  instantly  denounced  and  resisted.  Our  Home 
Government  has  been  trying  for  some  time  past  to  federate 
the  Australian  States  into  a  Dominion  like  the  Canadian,  as 
a  saving  of  trouble  to  Downing  Street.  Part  of  the  scheme 
was  to  be  the  formation  of  a  Dominion  fleet,  in  which  the 
separate  ships  of  the  now  divided  colonies  were  to  be  united 
under  a  flag  of  their  own,  to  relieve  the  English  Navy  of  the 


The  New  Guinea  Agitation.  99 

burden  of  defending  them.  In  the  condition  of  mind  in 
which  I  found  Melbourne  about  New  Guinea  I  thought  it 
really  fortunate  that  the  federation  was  still  incomplete. 

If  Australia  had  been  a  single  State  with  a  fleet  of  its  own 
and  with  the  Melbourne  statesmen  at  its  head,  as  they  would 
probably  be,  it  is  not  at  all  impossible,  so  angry  were  they, 
that  of  their  own  motion  they  would  have  sent  their  ships 
round  to  warn  the  Germans  off.  Of  course  a  step  like  this 
would  be  equivalent  to  a  break-up  of  the  British  Empire. 
Australia  is  part  of  that  empire,  or  it  is  not.  If  it  is  part,  the 
mother  country  is  responsible  for  the  doings  of  its  dependen- 
cies, and  the  peace  or  war  of  the  empire  will  lie  in  the  power 
of  each  of  its  branches.  No  State  can  preserve  its  unity  with 
two  executives.  The  Australians  do  not  contemplate  separa- 
tion. They  desire  nothing  less  ;  but  hot-headed  men  do  not 
always  pause  to  calculate  the  consequences  of  their  actions. 
I  understood  better  after  hearing  the  language  used  in  Vic- 
toria the  meaning  of  my  friend  at  Adelaide,  who  wished  the 
colonies  to  exchange  their  war-ships  into  a  subsidy  to  the 
Home  Government.  Of  course  I  do  not  mean  that  the  con- 
duct which  I  speak  of  was  likely.  Of  course  it  was  not  likely ; 
but  it  ought  not  to  be  possible.  Where  there  is  strong  prov- 
ocation the  possession  of  means  to  resent  an  imagined  wrong 
is  a  temptation  to  use  those  means  ;  and  on  the  first  news  of 
the  German  movement  (for  they  became  cooler  afterwards) 
the  provocation  in  the  Press,  in  society,  and  among  the  re- 
sponsible authorities  in  the  colonies  was  very  strong  indeed. 

As  matters  stood  the  anger  was  directed  as  much  at  Eng- 
land as  at  Germany.  As  they  could  not  act  for  themselves 
they  thought  that  England  ought  to  have  acted  for  them,  to 
have  claimed  New  Guinea  at  once  as  British  territory,  and  to 
have  ordered  the  Germans  out  of  it  as  peremptorily  as  the 
Americans  ordered  the  French  out  of  Mexico.  They  blamed 
the  Gladstone  Ministry  :  they  blamed  especially  the  Colonial 


100  Oceana. 

Secretary,  the  unfortunate  Lord  Derby.  Impatient  people 
talked  of  petitioning  the  Crown  for  his  dismissal.  To  them  as 
to  all  of  us  their  own  affairs  were  nearest,  and  the  mainten- 
ance of  the  British  Empire  was  made  to  turn  upon  this  par- 
ticular point.  In  the  ablest,  coolest,  and  best-disciplined  Co- 
lonial politicians,  there  is  an  enthusiasm  of  youth  bound  up 
with  their  highest  qualities.  We  ought  to  allow  for  such  feel- 
ings :  to  respect,  admire,  and  perhaps  envy  them,  though  we 
cannot  allow  them  to  influence  our  imperial  action.  Lord 
Derby  may  have  been  too  cold  in  manner.  They  complained 
bitterly  that  he  had  no  sympathy  with  them.  Kind  words 
cost  nothing,  and  the  Australian  impatience  was,  after  all,  but 
an  exaggerated  jealousy  for  the  honour  of  Oceana.  But,  so 
far  as  action  went,  Lord  Derby  did  all  that  was  possible,  as  I, 
when  I  was  asked  my  opinion,  always  tried  to  show  them. 
In  the  United  States  a  Monroe  doctrine  is  possible  because  the 
political  union  is  complete.  The  States  are  one  and  indivis- 
ible, and  each  is  bound  to  support  the  central  authority.  If 
England  and  her  colonies  were  organised  as  the  States  are  or- 
ganised, we  too  might,  if  we  pleased,  have  our  Monroe  doctrine 
in  the  Pacific.  It  is  unreasonable  to  require  us  to  challenge 
a  great  European  power  in  the  interest  of  countries  which,  if 
they  liked,  might  leave  us  to-morrow,  and  who  meanwhile 
contribute  nothing  to  the  fleets  and  armies  which  would  be 
required  to  maintain  their  pretensions.  On  cooler  reflection 
those  who  had  been  most  angry  began  to  see  that  their  fears 
had  been  excessive,  and  that  a  German  colony  on  the  far  side 
of  the  far-distant  New  Guinea  could  not  do  them  much  harm 
after  all.  A  military  station  it  could  never  be.  A  colony 
would  be  free,  like  their  own,  and,  if  it  prospered,  would 
probably,  in  the  end,  assimilate  with  themselves. 

The  storm,  however,  had  been  as  sudden  as  it  was  violent. 
Not  a  word  had  been  heard  of  it  before  I  left  England,  and 
some  days  had  to  pass  before  I  comprehended  what  it  was  all 


Government  House.  101 

about.  Meantime,  I  was  looking  round  me  and  enjoying  the 
delightful  quarters  in  which  I  found  myself.  Our  windows 
on  the  north  overlooked  the  park,  which  was  planted  with 
clumps  of  Pin  us  insignis  and  eucalyptus.  Between  and  among 
them  roofs  rose  of  handsome  houses,  and,  apart  from  the  rest, 
the  scattered  buildings  of  the  Observatory.  At  the  park  gate 
was  the  Yarra  River,  and  Melbourne  beyond  it,  in  the  dis- 
tance :  and  when  the  smoke  was  off,  and  the  fine  buildings 
stood  out  conspicuous,  the  town  looked  really  fine  with  its 
domes  and  steeples,  Houses  of  Parliament,  and  Courts  of  Jus- 
tice like  the  Four  Courts  in  Dublin.  To  the  west  was  the 
harbour,  and  Williamstown  where  we  had  landed,  with  its 
crowded  shipping  ;  in  the  distance  was  the  western  ocean 
into  which  at  evening  we  saw  the  sun  set  in  crimson  splen- 
dour. The  private  gardens  surrounding  the  house  were  fairly 
kept  by  the  Colonial  authorities.  Bright  in  such  a  climate 
they  could  not  fail  to  be,  and  there  was  the  usual  lawn-tennis 
ground,  where  the  aides-de-camp  and  the  Melbourne  young 
ladies  played  with  as  much  enthusiasm  as  at  home.  The  trees, 
however,  wanted  the  English  softness,  both  of  form  and 
colour.  The  coarse  buffalo-grass  eats,  like  a  destroying  mon- 
ster, into  its  delicate  English  rival  and  kills  it  out  of  the  way. 
More  may  and  should  be  done  in  the  ornamental  garden  de- 
partment if  it  is  to  be  worthy  of  such  a  mansion.  In  the 
kitchen-garden  I  saw  pear  and  apple  trees  destroyed  by  the 
burden  of  fruit  which  they  were  allowed  to  endeavour  to  ripen 
— large  branches  literally  broken  off,  some  of  them,  by  a 
weight  which  they  could  not  carry  ;  others,  which  could  not  so 
relieve  themselves,  dying  of  exhaustion.  Melbourne,  Sydney, 
and  even  more,  I  believe,  Tasmania,  can  grow  apples  and  pears 
enough  to  supply  the  world  with  cider  and  perry,  and  plums, 
apricots,  and  peaches  enough  to  surfeit  us  with  preserves. 

Adjoining  the  grounds  of  Government  House  and  con- 
nected  with  them  by  a  private  walk  down  a  picturesque 


102  Oceana. 

ravine,  are  the  public  gardens  of  the  city,  which  eclipse  even 
those  of  Adelaide  in  size  and  the  opportunities  of  the  situation. 
The  Melbourne  Gardens  are  on  the  slope  of  a  valley,  at  the 
head  of  which,  and  where  the  incline  is  nearly  precipitous, 
the  tower  and  battlements  of  the  house  stand  out  conspicu- 
ous. The  gardens  themselves  extend  for  a  mile  with  a  large 
sheet  of  winding  water  in  the  middle  of  them.  As  at  Ade- 
laide no  expense  has  been  spared  :  and  I  think  I  observed 
more  attention  to  scientific  arrangement  in  the  grouping  of 
the  trees.  Broad  lawns,  kept  carefully  watered,  open  out  at 
intervals  with  flower-beds  blazing  with  splendour.  The  lake 
has  islands  in  it,  approached  over  pretty  bridges,  and  it  will 
be  one  day  beautiful  when  the  water  is  filtered.  Here  was 
all  which  heart  of  visitor  could  desire  :  avenues  to  stroll  in 
which  a  vertical  sun  could  not  penetrate  ;  with  the  glory  of 
colour  which  nature  lavishes  on  leaf  and  petal  to  look  at. 
Alas  !  that  in  all  things  in  this  world  there  should  be  a  some- 
thing one  could  wish  away.  The  something  here  was  the  flies, 
of  all  sizes  and  hues,  who  were  in  millions,  and  who,  like  the 
giant  in  '  Jack  and  the  Beanstalk,'  '  smell  the  smell  of  an  Eng- 
lishman,' and  fasten  on  him  and  devour  him.  A  cigar  would 
be  a  remedy  but  for  the  stern  '  No  smoking  allowed  in  these 
precincts.'  The  gardeners  happily  are  more  humane  than 
their  masters,  and  do  not  see  the  forbidden  thing  when  it  is 
not  flourished  in  their  faces.  With  the  help  of  tobacco  I  con- 
trived to  protect  myself,  and  thus  guarded  I  had  the  most 
charming  place  to  walk  in  all  the  time  of  my  stay,  and  a  great 
many  curious  things  to  observe.  They  are  trying  hard  to  in- 
troduce English  trees,  and  succeed  tolerably  with  some.  The 
elms  and  planes  thrive  best ;  of  oaks  they  have  fifty  varieties 
I  think,  and  none  of  them  do  really  well.  They  grow  vigor- 
ously for  a  year  or  two,  then  lose  their  leading  shoot,  which 
dies  away,  and  they  throw  out  branches  horizontally.  I  no- 
ticed, however,  that  they  bore  the  largest  acorns  which  I  had 


Melbourne  Society.  103 

ever  seen.  They  are  perhaps  acclimatizing  themselves,  and 
out  of  these  acorns  may  come  true  monarchs  of  the  forest, 
grander  than  our  own. 

Meanwhile,  indoors  we  were  studying  the  Victorians  and 
Victorian  Society.  Party  followed  party,  and  it  was  English 
life  over  again  :  nothing  strange,  nothing  exotic,  nothing  new 
or  original,  save  perhaps  in  greater  animation  of  spirits. 
The  leaves  that  grow  on  one  branch  of  an  oak  are  not  more 
like  the  leaves  that  grow  upon  another,  than  the  Australian 
swarm  is  like  the  hive  it  sprung  from.  All  was  the  same — 
dress,  manners,  talk,  appearance.  The  men  were  quite  as 
sensible,  the  women  as  pretty,  and  both  as  intelligent  and 
agreeable.  I  could  not  help  asking  myself  what,  after  all,  -is 
the  meaning  of  uniting  the  colonies  more  closely  to  ourselves. 
They  are  closely  united  ;  they  are  ourselves  ;  and  can  sep- 
arate only  in  the  sense  that  parents  and  children  separate  or 
brothers  and  sisters ;  and  until  symptoms  have  actually  ap- 
peared of  a  wish  on  our  part  to  throw  them  off,  or  on  theirs 
to  desert  us,  the  veiy  talk  of  such  a  thing  ought  not  to  be. 
Nor  need  any  other  straiter  bond  exist  between  us,  were 
there  but  one  executive  among  us,  or  even  but  one  fleet, 
since  in  no  other  way  can  the  colonies  come  in  collision  with 
a  foreign  power.  Parents  and  children  do  not  enter  into 
articles  of  compact.  If  the  natural  tie  is  not  strong  enough, 
no  mechanical  tie  will  hold.  And  it  is  on  account  of  this 
existing  relationship  between  us  that  the  sting  has  lain  of 
the  late  suggestion  of  parting  with  the  colonies.  They  have 
felt  as  a  child  would  feel  who  was  trying  to  do  his  best,  and 
was  conscious  that  he  was  no  discredit  to  the  family,  yet  was 
told  by  his  father  that  the  family  had  no  wish  to  keep  him, 
and  that  the  sooner  he  took  himself  off  the  better.  It  was 
treating  close  kinsmen  as  if  we  acknowledged  no  relationship 
with  them  except  of  interest,  and  kinsmen  are  apt  to  resent 
such  wnhuman  indifference. 


104  Oceana. 

Several  of  the  Victorian  ministers  dined  with  the  Governor 
while  I  was  there,  and  other  gentlemen  of  past  or  present 
distinction.  They  seemed  all  to  be  persons  who  would  have 
been  distinguished  anywhere — made  of  the  same  material  as 
our  public  men  at  home.  They  would  have  gone  to  the  front 
in  the  English  House  of  Commons  as  easily  as  in  their  own 
legislature,  and  have  become  members  of  Cabinets  in  London 
instead  of  at  Melbourne.  I  was  introduced  to  Mr.  Service, 
the  Premier,  sat  next  him  at  dinner,  and  liked  him  well.  He 
is  a  spare,  lean  man,  rather  over  the  middle  height,  with  a 
high,  well-shaped  forehead,  grey  eyes  (so  they  seemed  to  me 
by  lamplight),  fine  in  their  way  ;  a  manner  quiet  but  digni- 
fied ;  a  mouth  that  indicated  a  capacity  for  anger  if  there 
was  occasion  for  it.  In  this  last  indication  his  mouth,  I 
believe,  does  not  belie  him.  He  is  the  representative  of 
the  ambition  of  Victoria  to  be  the  chief  State  in  a  fed- 
erated Australia.,  and  is  an  ardent  supporter  of  the  colonial 
federation  policy.  The  Australian  colonies  have  grown  \vith 
a  rapidity  which  justifies  extensive  expectations  for  them. 
Mr.  Service  sees  before  him  at  the  end  of  half  a  century  an 
Australia  with  fifty  million  inhabitants :  a  second  United 
States  of  itself,  in  the  Southern  Hemisphere.  I  have  no 
right,  and  certainly  no  wish,  to  throw  a  doubt  on  this.  If 
the  several  provinces  continue  to  increase  their  numbers  at 
the  present  rate,  there  will  be  more  than  fifty  millions  then. 
There  is  a  proverb  that  'nothing  is  certain  but  the  unfore- 
seen,' and  in  fact  few  things  turn  out  as  we  expect  them. 

TO.VTO.  Oewv  ev  yovvcuri  Keirat. 

But  it  is  well  to  be  sanguine,  and  we  are  the  better  off  for 
our  hopes  even  if  they  are  never  realised.  In  the  distance 
and  when  it  has  reached  these  dimensions,  Mr.  Service  prob- 
ably looks  forward  to  Australian  independence.  But  for  the 
present  and  for  a  long  time  to  come,  he  said  that  he  thought 


The  Premier  of  Victoria. 

the  continuance  of  the  connection  absolutely  essential  to  the 
peaceful  growth  of  the  colony,  and  that  the  politico-economic 
view  of  the  matter,  if  carried  into  action,  would  be  as  injuri- 
ous to  them  as  it  would  be  degrading  and  dishonourable  to 
England.  He  hoped  to  see  England  grow  more  conscious 
of  the  value  of  the  colonies  to  her,  and  the  colonies  of  the 
consequence  attaching  to  them  as  members  of  a  great  empire. 
Their  technical  relations  to  each  other  might  adjust  themselves 
in  different  forms  as  time  went  on  :  prudent  statesmen  did 
not  let  their  conduct  be  influenced  by  remote  possibilities. 
They  looked  to  the  present  and  the  circuit  of  the  visible  hori- 
zon ;  and  their  duty  now,  in  all  parts  of  the  empire,  was  to 
draw  closer  together,  and  recognise  their  common  interest  in 
maintaining  their  union. 

For  this  reason  he  deprecated  the  language  so  often  lately 
heard  from  influential  Liberal  politicians  at  home.  If  the 
colonies  continued  to  be  told  by  the  press  and  by  platform 
speakers  that  we  did  not  care  about  them,  and  that  they 
might  leave  us  when  they  pleased,  and  if  official  communica- 
tions continued  cold  and  indifferent,  indifference  might  pro- 
duce indifference.  A  separatist  tendency,  which  had  as  yet 
no  existence,  Avould  grow  up.  The  links  might  be  broken  in 
a  fit  of  irritation  and  impatience,  and  once  gone  could  never 
be  mended.  They  resented — knowing  that  they  were  as  Eng- 
lish as  ourselves — being  treated  by  English  ministers  as  if 
they  were  strangers  accidentally  connected  with  us,  as  if  blood 
and  natural  affection  were  to  go  for  nothing. 

This  may  sound  sentimental,  but  the  chief  part  of  the  reality 
in  questions  of  this  kind  is  sentiment.  Family  affection  is 
sentiment ;  friendship  is  sentiment ;  patriotism  is  sentiment. 
A  nation  with  whom  sentiment  is  nothing,  is  on  the  way  to 
cease  to  be  a  nation  at  all.  I  decidedly  liked  Mr.  Service  ; 
he  expressed  what  I  thought  myself  more  clearly  than  I  coul-*. 
do,  and  I  considered  him,  in  consequence,  a  sensible  man- 


106  Oceana. 

On  other  subjects,  too,  he  talked  well,  like  a  man  as  much 
accustomed  to  reflect  seriously  as  if  he  had  been  a  profound 
philosopher  or  an  Anglican  bishop.  He,  the  popular  chief  of 
a  great,  modern,  progressive,  middle-class  community,  began, 
to  my  astonishment,  to  raise  a  question  whether,  after  all  our 
scientific  discoveries,  our  steam-engines  and  railways  and 
newspaper  printing-offices  and  the  other  triumphs  of  the 
Revolutionary  period,  mankind  were  really  superior,  morally 
and  spiritually,  to  what  they  had  been  two  thousand  years 
ago  ;  whether,  if  we  were  to  meet  Ulysses  or  Pericles,  Horace 
or  Lucian,  we  should  be  conscious  of  any  steep  inequality  in 
our  own  favour.  Ho  argued  his  point  very  well  indeed, 
brought  out  all  that  was  to  be  said  on  either  side,  and  left  the 
conclusion  open. 

On  the  other  side  of  me  at  the  same  dinner  sate  the  Astron- 
omer-Royal, Mr.  Ellery.  Not  knowing  at  the  moment  who 
he  was,  I  could  only  be  agreeably  pleased  with  a  gentleman 
evidently  so  highly  cultivated,  and  wonder  whether  I  was  to 
take  such  a  man  as  a  type  of  Australian  society.  I  was  intro- 
duced to  him  afterwards.  He  graciously  invited  me  to  visit 
the  Observatory,  and  the  next  morning  Lady  Loch,  Lord 
E ,  I,  and  two  or  three  more  walked  across.  The  instru- 
ments were  said  to  be  specially  worth  seeing — a  magnificent 
reflecting  telescope,  and  several  others,  with  all  the  latest  in- 
ventions. 

The  Observatory  was  but  a  quarter  of  a  mile  distant,  but  in 
the  forenoon,  and  under  a  Victorian  sun,  we  had  a  mauvais 
quart  d'heure  in  getting  there.  On  the  way,  amidst  some 
coarse  grass,  I  beheld  a  scarlet  pimpernel,  the  veritable  '  poor 
man's  weatherglass  '  of  northern  Europe,  basking  wide  open 
in  the  rays.  If  I  had  been  studying  the  language  of  the  New 
Hebrides,  and  had  found  imbedded  in  it  a  Greek  verb,  perfect 
in  all  its  inflexions,  I  could  not  have  been  more  surprised. 
How,  in  the  wide  world,  came  a  highly  organised  plant  of  this 


The  Observatory.  107 

kind  to  be  growing  wild  in  Australia  ?  Had  the  seed  been 
brought  by  some  ship's  crew,  or  in  a  bird's  stomach,  or  been 
wafted  over  in  the  chambers  of  the  air  ?  To  what  far-off  con- 
nexion did  it  point,  of  Australia  with  the  old  world  ?  I  gath- 
ered my  marvel,  and  carried  it  to  Mr.  Ellery  to  be  explained. 
How  idly  we  let  our  imagination  wander !  He  laughed  as  he 
said,  '  Many  weeds  and  wild  flowers  from  the  old  country 
make  their  first  appearance  in  this  garden.  Our  instruments 
are  sent  out  packed  in  hay.' 

I  remember  Mr.  Joseph  Hume  objecting  once  to  a  grant  in 
the  Budget  for  an  observatory  at  the  Cape.  Had  we  not  an 
excellent  observatory  at  Greenwich?  and  if  the  globe  re- 
volved, what  use  could  there  be  for  a  second  ?  Had  he  seen 
what  the  Melbourne  people  were  willing  to  do  or  give  to  pro- 
mote astronomical  science,  he  would  have  been  shocked  at 
their  extravagance.  They  are  not  going  to  be  left  behind  in 
any  department  of  things,  and  have  spared  neither  thought 
nor  money.  Mr.  Ellery  showed  us  all  his  equipments  :  his 
great  telescope,  and  his  transit  instruments,  and  these  were 
the  least  of  his  wonders.  In  every  vacant  space,  in  the  pas- 
sages, against  the  walls  of  the  rooms,  under  the  roof,  or  under 
the  sky,  there  was  something  strange,  of  which  we  had  to 
ask  an  explanation.  Grave-faced  clocks  were  turning  bar- 
rels everywhere,  round  which  paper  was  rolled,  and  all  the 
properties  of  the  atmosphere — motion,  temperature,  density, 
electricity,  &c. — were  authentically  and  deliberately  writing 
down  on  these  rolls  in  what  degree  they  were  present.  A 
generation  back  a  special  assistant  was  required  to  draw  and 
write  down  each  of  these  things,  and  he  could  do  it  but  im- 
perfectly. Here  they  were  patiently  recording  themselves  in 
lines  upon  the  paper  coils.  Most  curious  of  all  to  me  was 
the  breed  of  spiders,  which  are  carefully  and  separately 
brought  up,  fed,  and  protected  from  contamination  with 
others  of  their  race.  In  transit  and  other  delicate  observa- 


108  Oceana. 

tions,  where  the  period  at  which  a  star  passes  this  point  or 
that,  must  be  noted  to  the  fraction  of  a  second,  the  inner  sur- 
face of  the  glasses  used  is  crossed  by  minute  lines,  dividing 
it  into  squares,  to  assist  in  measuring  the  precise  rate  of 
movement  across  the  field.  For  these  lines  no  thread  is  fine 
enough  which  man  can  manufacture.  Spider  web  is  used, 
and  not  even  this  as  the  spider  leaves  it :  for  the  spider 
makes  a  rope,  and  it  is  the  strands  of  the  rope,  when  un- 
twisted, which  alone  will  answer.  The  common  spider's 
thread,  such  as  we  see  him  stretch  from  point  to  point  on  a 
bush,  is  a  rope  of  eight  strands,  the  untwisting  of  which  to 
human  fingers  is  a  difficult  operation.  But  a  variety  has  been 
found  at  Melbourne  whose  thread  has  only  three  strands,  and 
the  precious  creatures  are  among  the  Observatory's  rarest 
treasures.  Looking  at  all  this  elaborate  apparatus,  I  said  it 
made  me  wonder  the  more  at  the  old  Alexandrians,  who,  with 
their  imperfect  instruments,  had  discovered  the  precession  of 
the  equinoxes.  'Yes,'  Mr.  Ellery  answered,  'and  the  best 
work  now  is  being  done  by  men  who  have  imperfect  instru- 
ments. It  is  the  eye  of  the  observer,  and  not  the  telescope, 
which  makes  the  difference.'  Some  day,  I  suppose,  all  hu- 
man necessities  will  be  supplied  by  mechanical  demons  ;  but 
I  doubt  whether  man  himself  will  be  much  the  better  for  it 
Aladdin  remained  a  poor  creature  for  all  his  genii. 

In  the  afternoon  Lady  Loch  took  me  to  the  park  to  hear 
the  band  play,  and  to  see  the  rank,  beauty,  and  fashion  of 
Victoria.  In  the  hot  weather  the  rank,  beauty,  and  fashion 
migrate  to  cooler  quarters  at  Hobart's  Town,  so  the  show  was 
not  impressive ;  even  the  horses  disappointed  me  after  what  I 
had  heard  of  the  Australian  breed.  Here  and  there  I  saw  a 
handsome  carriage,  with  smart  appointments,  and  well-dressed 
ladies  in  it ;  but  horses,  riders,  phaetons,  curricles,  tandems, 
were  of  a  scratch  description,  and  the  scene  was  gipsy-like  and 
scrambling,  like  what  one  sees  at  an  English  country  racecourse. 


Reproduction  of  England.  109 

We  drove  afterwards  round  the  environs  of  Melbourne, 
among  endless  suburban  residences,  like  ours  at  Wimbledon, 
in  fair  modern  taste,  and  all  indicating  a  carelessness  of  cost. 
A  sense  of  beauty,  however,  everywhere  indicated  itself  in  the 
gardens,  in  striking  contrast  with  the  United  States,  where 
the  ordinary  suburban  house  rises  bare  in  the  midst  of  indif- 
ferently kept  grass,  and  even  the  palaces  of  the  millionaires 
stand  in  ground  poorly  laid  out.  In  Melbourne,  and  in  these 
colonies  universally,  there  seemed  a  desire  among  the  owners 
to  surround  themselves  with  graceful  objects,  and  especially 
with  the  familiar  featui'es  of  their  old  home — oaks,  maples, 
elms,  firs,  planes,  and  apple-trees.  Almost  every  one  of  our 
ti'ees,  except  the  oak,  grows  easily  and  luxuriantly. 

Other  English  organisations  are  also  reproducing  them- 
selves, of  a  kind  which  some  philosophers  regard  as  the  rank 
growth  of  European  civilisation,  to  be  made  war  against  and 
extirpated.  They  appear,  however,  to  be  natural  productions, 
natural  in  new  countries  as  well  as  in  old.  A  landed  gentry 
is  springing  up  in  Victoria,  with  all  its  established  charac- 
teristics. Sir ,  a  baronet  with  160,OOOZ.  a  year  and  an  es- 
tate as  large  as  Dorsetshire,  called  afterwards  at.  Government 
House,  a  distinguished  highbred-looking  man,  who  invited  us 
to  a  cruise  in  his  yacht,  and  kindly  pressed  me  to  pay  him  a 
visit  at  his  country  house,  see  his  picture  gallery,  &c.  There 
is  room  in  Australia  for  all  orders  and  degrees  of  men.  I 
travelled  afterwards  through  Sir 's  property.  His  '  ten- 
ants '  spoke  favourably  of  him,  and  had  no  wish  to  change 
their  occupancy  into  ownership.  Mr.  George  and  socialistic 
despotism  will  find  no  audience  in  these  colonies.  Perhaps, 
before  long,  they  will  lose  their  audience  at  home. 

At  dinner,  the  same  evening,  I  met,  with  very  great  pleas- 
ure, a  son  of  Edward  Irving's  :  long  Professor,  and  now,  I 
believe,  Rector  of  Melbourne  University.  His  face  reminded 
me  of  his  father's :  there  were  the  same  finely-cut  features, 


110  Occana. 

the  same  eager,  noble,  and  generous  expression  ;  but  be  was 
calmer  and  quieter.  Eutbusiasm  bad  become  tempered  down 
into  rational  and  practical  energy.  He  was  educated  at  Bal- 
liol,  and  highly  distinguisbed  bimself.  He  was  among  tbe 
first  men  of  bis  year,  and  would  bave  succeeded,  as  a  matter 
of  course,  to  a  Fellowship,  but  for  tbe  religious  tests  wbicb 
were  tben  unrepealed.  Perbaps — I  do  not  know,  it  is  but  my 
own  conjecture — be  migbt  bave  conformed  to  tbose  tests  if 
be  bad  followed  bis  personal  convictions.  He  was,  and  is  en- 
tirely ortbodox,  and  bad  no  agnostic  tendencies,  like  some  of 
bis  contemporaries  ;  but,  witb  a  fine  filial  piety,  be  would  not 
separate  bimself  from  bis  fatber's  Catbolic  and  Apostolic 
Cburcb.  His  career  at  borne  was  obstructed  ;  be  emigrated 
to  Austraba  many  years  ago,  and  few  men  bave  done  better 
service  to  tbe  land  of  tbeir  adoption.  Tbe  spiritual  interests 
of  the  colonies  bave  thriven  upon  English  exclusiveness.  It 
was  peculiarly  agreeable  to  me  to  meet  him.  I  bad  seen  his 
father  once,  I  had  heard  him  preach,  and  the  impression  had 
never  left  me. 

We  had  been  already  presented  witb  free  passes  on  the  Vic- 
torian railways,  the  Government  being  anxious  to  give  us  all 
facilities  in  their  power  to  learn  what  was  going  on  in  the 
colony ;  but,  as  if  this  was  not  enough,  they  were  still  more 
exceptionally  generous.  Mr.  GiUies,  a  member  of  tbe  Cabi- 
net, proposed,  in  tbe  name  of  bis  colleagues,  to  conduct  us 
himself  over  their  principal  wonders,  show  us  the  country,  tbe 
gold  mines,  the  farms,  the  vineyards,  the  scenery.  They 
wished  us  to  see  things  ;  they  wished,  with  most  kind  consid- 
eration, to  spare  me,  as  an  old  man,  the  fatigue  of  ordinary 
travelling.  A  special  train  therefore  was  to  be  provided  with 
the  luxuries  of  a  drawing-room  car.  There  were  to  be  car- 
riages at  the  stations  for  us,  rooms  at  the  best  hotels,  &c.,  and 
all  this  was  to  cost  us  nothing.  We  were  to  look  on  ourselves 
as  tbe  guests  of  the  colony,  and  as  a  companion  we  were  to 


Melbourne  Curiosities.  Ill 

have  one  of  the  best  informed  and  ablest  of  its  public  servants. 
The  compliment  was  partly  to  me,  but  a  good  deal  to  Lord 

E ,  with  whom  we  were  grouped  into  a  party.    My  sou  was 

to  go  with  us,  and  as  a  fourth  we  were  to  have  the  charming 
and  accomplished  Mr.  Way,  Chief  Justice  of  South  Australia, 
who  happened  to  be  at  Melbourne  on  a  visit.  Notice  had  to 
be  sent  to  Ballarat  and  to  the  other  places  to  which  we  were  to 
go,  and  the  arrangements  required  a  few  days'  preparation. 
The  interval  was  spent  on  the  chief  sights  of  the  city,  libraries, 
galleries,  museums,  public  halls,  and  such  like.  To  make  a 
profitable  use  of  such  a  study  requires  a  special  organisation, 
which  in  my  case  has  been  left  out.  My  senses  lose  their  per- 
ception when  many  objects  of  many  kinds  are  thrust  upon 
them  one  after  the  other.  It  is  like  flying  through  a  country 
on  a  railway,  or  tasting  successively  a  number  of  different 
wines.  The  palate  loses  its  power  of  distinction,  and  one 
flavour  is  like  another.  I  can  spend  a  day  over  a  single  case 
in  a  museum  :  one  picture  at  a  time  is  as  much  as  I  can  at- 
tend to.  A  day  spent  in  walking  from  room  to  room,  from 
books  to  paintings,  from  paintings  to  sculpture,  from  sculpture 
to  crystals  and  minerals  and  stuffed  birds  and  beasts,  leaves 
me  bewildered.  I  remember  once  taking  a  poor  lady  over  the 
British  Museum.  She  would  see  everything  :  printed  books 
and  MSS.,  engravings  and  illuminated  missals,  beetles  and 
butterflies,  ichthyosauri  and  iguanodons,  Greek  and  Roman 
statues,  Egyptian  gods  and  mummies,  Assyrian  kings  on  the 
alabaster  tablets.  It  was  over  at  last  ;  we  passed  out  between 
the  great  winged  bulls  from  Nineveh.  She  observed  to  me, 
'  Those,  I  presume,  are  antediluvian.'  I  was  reduced  to  the 
same  state  of  mind  after  being  taken  through  the  Melbourne 
treasures,  and  I  can  give  no  rational  account  of  them,  save 
that  they  were  abundant  and  varied,  and  had  been  collected 
regardless  of  expense  ;  that  the  managers  were  full  of  knowl- 
edge, and  were  most  polite  in  communicating  it. 


112  Oceana. 

More  intelligible  to  me  was  the  magnificent  Concert  Hall, 
large  as  the  Free  Trade  Hall  at  Manchester,  but  constructed 
less  for  public  speaking  than  for  music.  The  organ,  which 
was  built  at  Melbourne,  is  one  of  the  finest  in  existence.  The 
organist,  who  is  worthy  of  his  instrument,  plays  in  the  after- 
noon two  or  three  times  a  week,  and  workmen,  workmen's 
wives  and  children,  ladies,  gentlemen,  all  sorts  and  conditions, 
call  indiscriminately  to  listen.  Our  own  visit  was  out  of 
hours.  For  a  time  we  had  the  hall  to  ourselves,  and  the  or- 
ganist let  us  choose  whatever  we  wished  to  hear.  I  have 
rarely  heard  any  organ-playing  more  severely  grand. 

There  are  amusements,  however,  suited  to  all  tastes.  There 
was  a  theatre  of  course,  and  the  Governor  and  his  smte  were 
invited  to  a  special  performance.  "We  had  an  operatic  pan- 
tomime, much  like  other  pantomimes,  and  a  troop  of  ballet- 
girls  with  the  usual  indecent  absence  of  costume.  Poor 
things  !  I  was  sorry  to  see  them  in  this  new  land  of  promise, 
and  I  wished  them  a  better  occupation.  The  audience  was 
English  to  the  heart.  There  were  the  English  cat-calls  from 
the  gallery,  the  English  delight  in  animal  fun  which  can  be 
understood  without  an  effort.  Two  monsters  pulling  each 
other's  noses  in  the  background  while  the  chief  actors  in  the 
play  were  discoursing  in  front  of  the  stage  brought  down  the 
house.  Clown  and  harlequin  tumbled  over  pantaloon,  knocked 
down  the  policeman,  robbed  the  shops,  jumped  in  and  out 
of  windows — all  in  the  approved  style.  Satisfaction  turned 
to  exuberant  delight  when  one  or  the  other  was  thrown  on 
his  back.  It  was  English  without  a  difference  ;  no  other 
people  in  the  world  have  the  same  enjoyment  of  rough-and- 
tumble  joking.  Some  improvised  singing,  with  allusions  to 
local  politics,  was  good-natured  and  well  received.  The  Gov- 
ernor came  in  for  his  share  of  wit-pellets,  and  laughed  as 
loud  as  anyone.  I  observed  him  while  it  was  going  on,  and 
something  in  his  look  reminded  me,  I  know  not  why,  of  the 


Sir  Henry  Loch.  113 

late  Lord  L ,  with  the  difference  of  expression  due  to  a 

life  spent  in  chivalrous  work  instead  of  a  life  of  idleness. 

Lord  L ,  the  more  highly  gifted  of  the  two  perhaps,  being 

born  in  the  purple,  lounged  through  his  existence,  shot  deer, 
won  notoriety  in  fast  London  society,  wrote  a  few  lyrics  to 
show  the  genius  that  had  been  wasted  upon  him,  and  died 
mad.  Sir  Henry,  more  happy  than  he  in  being  without  the 
things  which  most  men  covet,  not  being  able  to  do  as  he  liked 
and  being  forced  to  work,  will  leave  a  noble  name  behind 
him,  and  will  not  die  mad. 

On  Sunday  we  walked  across  the  public  gardens,  a  mile 
and  a  half,  to  church.  It  was  a  church  of  the  most  modern 
English  type,  ornamental,  ritualistic,  chorister  boys  in  sur- 
plices corresponding  to  the  home  pattern  as  closely  as  the 
young  ladies  at  the  theatre,  an  intoned  liturgy  and  a  some- 
what ambitious  sermon  on  the  English  race  and  its  destinies. 
We  were  to  regard  ourselves  as  the  salt  of  the  earth — as  a 
nation  chosen  above  all  the  rest  to  represent  the  spirit  of 
Christ.  It  was  good  to  tell  us  to  exhibit  Christ's  spirit ;  but 
was  flattering  our  vanity  the  best  way  to  bring  us  to  it  ? 
There  was  once  a  sternness  in  the  English  character,  a  hatred 
of  insincerities  and  half-sincerities,  a  contempt  for  humbug 
of  all  sorts  and  degrees.  Where  is  it  now?  Extinct?  or 
only  sleeping  and  by-and-by  to  wake?  On  returning  we 
found  letters,  &c.,  from  home  which  were  a  singular  comment 
on  the  address  to  which  we  had  been  listening.  They 
brought  news  of  the  dynamite  explosions  in  the  Tower  and  in 
the  Houses  of  Parliament,  another  response,!  suppose,  to  the 
intimation  that  the  Clerkenwell  business  had  brought  the 
wrongs  of  Ireland  within  the  range  of  practical  politics. 
There  will  now,  I  suppose,  be  another  dose  of  remedial  legis- 
lation. Truly  it  has  been  a  notable  medicine  for  Irish  dis- 
affection to  destroy  the  only  part  of  the  population  there 
whose  loyalty  can  be  depended  upon — like  feeding  a  man 
8 


Oceana. 

who  has  delirium  tremens  with  fresh  draughts  of  the  '  water 
of  life.'  I,  for  my  own  part,  believe  that  the  old  English 
character  is  only  sleeping,  and  will  rouse  itself  up  at  last  to 
see  the  meaning  of  all  that 

The  day  after,  I  spent  in  wandering  alone  about  Melbourne. 
I  went  into  the  handsome  public  library,  which  was  fairly 
filled  with  readers.  They  were  studying,  I  was  told,  books  of 
solid  worth.  It  might  be  so  ;  but  I  saw  a  curious  spectacle 
afterwards.  In  one  of  the  principal  streets  there  was  a  large 
archway  leading  into  a  kind  of  arcade,  over  which  was  written, 
in  large  letters,  the  Book. Pavilion.  It  was  divided  into  sec- 
tions. The  first  and  most  important  was  a  roomy  saloon  with 
shelves  all  round  and  a  table  in  the  middle,  shelves  and  table 
being  completely  filled  and  covered  with  thousands  of  the 
cheap  editions  of  modern  novels  and  magazines,  the  backs 
of  them  shining  with  illustrations  of  human  life  as  depicted 
in  the  pages  inside  :  despairing  lovers  at  the  feet  of  their 
mistresses,  corsairs,  brigands,  forgers,  midnight  murderers. 
What  a  business  our  '  life  '  would  be  if  these  were  a  real  rep- 
resentation of  it.  There  were  French  and  German  novels  in 
translations,  English  novels  in  the  vernacular  tongue,  in  their 
yellow  and  pink  bindings  ;  and  over  them  and  about  them 
were  crowds — literally  crowds — of  children  ;  those  who  could 
possess  themselves  of  the  precious  volumes,  swallowing  them 
as  if  they  contained  a  message  of  salvation  ;  the  less  fortunate 
devouring  the  pictures,  exactly  like  so  many  flies  round  the 
poisoned  tartlets  in  a  pastrycook's  shop.  In  the  rooms  be- 
yond were  a  few  units  of  readers,  looking  into  or  at  graver 
works,  arranged  under  heads,  '  Science,'  '  Divinity,'  &c.  In 
the  books  of  divinity,  there  was  strict  impartiality  :  Bishop 
Butler  stood  peaceably  by  the  side  of  Renau,  and  Canon 
Farrar's  '  Life  of  Christ '  beside  Strauss's  '  Leben  Jesu.'  One 
could  not  but  feel  misgivings  for  the  state  of  spiritual  diges- 
tion in  the  innocent,  eager  creatures  turned  out  to  browse  in 


A  Night  at  the  Observatory.  115 

such  a  pasture.  But  it  was  typical  of  our  present  condition, 
and  is  worse  perhaps,  after  all,  at  home  than  in  the  colonies. 
If  this  is  what  conies  of  sending  everybody  to  school,  would 
not  our  boys  and  girls  be  better  employed  as  apprentices 
learning  useful  trades  and  handicrafts  ? 

The  last  evening  before  we  started  on  our  expedition,  was 
given  to  the  Observatory  again.  Mr.  Ellery  had  promised  to 
show  us  some  of  the  Southern  stars.  The  '  cross '  had  been 
familiar  to  us  ever  since  we  passed  the  line.  To  the  eye  it  is 
disappointing,  the  notable  feature  about  it  being  the  black 
chasm  I  spoke  of ;  but  Mr.  Ellery  showed  us,  through  a  strong 
refracting  telescope,  the  beautiful  cluster  in  the  middle  of  it 
called  'the  Gems.'  We  saw  Saturn  well,  and  Sirius  like  a 
brilliant  electric  light.  I  had  been  once  shown  a  blue  star, 
and  wished  to  renew  my  acquaintance  with  it.  I  had  to  learn 
that  there  were  no  really  blue  stars,  and  the  colour  had  been 
due  to  an  imperfectly  achromatic  lens — a  type  perhaps  of  some 
other  celestial  truths  of  which  we  fancy  ourselves  perfectly 
certain. 

The  night  was  unfortunately  windy  and  misty,  and  Mr. 
Ellery  himself  was,  after  all,  the  most  interesting  object  in 
the  exhibition.  I  had  some  further  talk  with  him,  and  wished 
it  had  been  more.  He  considered  that  the  drag  on  the  earth's 
rotation  from  the  tidal  wave  was  far  from  proved.  The  fact 
of  the  retardation,  to  begin  with,  was  only  conjecture,  and  if 
the  tidal  wave  had  a  retarding  action,  it  might  be  corrected  by 
other  influences  unknown  to  us.,  I  did  not  venture  to  pro- 
pound my  own  wave  theory  about  it.  I  asked  him  about  the 
sub-tropical  plants  lately  discovered  in  coal-measures  in  lati- 
tude 83°  north,  and  how  such  plants  could  have  grown  when 
they  were  half  the  year  in  darkness.  He  seemed  to  think  that 
there  must  have  been  some  great  difference,  greater  far  than 
our  present  knowledge  can  explain,  in  the  inclination  of  the 
earth's  axis.  I  read,  since  my  return,  in  a  French  scientific 


116  Oceana. 

journal,  an  assertion  that  the  earth's  axis  had  at  one  time  been 
at  right  angles  to.  the  ecliptic,  that  it  had  slowly  inclined,  as 
we  see  a  spinning  top  incline,  till  it  had  reached  an  angle  of 
45°  or  more,  and  was  now  half-way  back  to  the  perpendicular. 
This,  if  true,  would  explain  all  the  changes  of  climate  which 
the  north  part  of  Europe  has  evidently  passed  through  from 
tropical  heat  to  the  cold  of  the  glacier  epoch.  It  would  ex- 
plain the  plants  in  those  coal-measures.  It  would  explain 
everything,  if  true?  But  is  it  true?  How  many  times  must 
we  outsiders  learn  up  our  science,  and  then  unlearn  it  ?  Each 
new  generation  of  philosophers  laughs  at  the  conclusions  of 
its  predecessors. 


CHAPTER 

Expedition  into  the  interior  of  the  Colony — Mr.  Gillies — Special  train- 
approaches  to  Ballarat — The  rabbit  plague — A  squatter's  station — 
Ercildoun  and  its  inhabitants —Ballarat — Gold-mining — Australian 
farms — A  cottage  garden — Lake  and  park — Fish  and  flower  culture 
— Municipal  hospitality. 

WHO  has  not  heard  of  Ballarat,  the  Eldorado  of  forty  years 
ago  :  the  diggings  where  adventurers  from  all  parts  of  the 
world  flew  upon  the  soil  with  their  picks  and  shovels,  some 
to  light  on  nuggets  which  made  them  into  millionaires,  some 
to  toil  for  months  unrewarded,  yet  toiling  on  as  if  possessed 
by  a  demon  !  Ballarat  was  then  an  arid  treeless  hollow  lying 
between  low  hills,  with  a  scanty  brook  trickling  down  the 
middle  of  it.  Valley  and  hillside  were  then  dotted  over  with 
tiny  tents.  Each  tent  held  its  two  mates,  for  they  worked  in 
pairs  always ;  and  altogether  there  were  collected  in  that  spot 
tens  of  thousands  of  human  beings,  flinging  up  soil  and  sand- 
heaps  like  the  Bactriau  ants  of  Herodotus,  the  bushrangers 
watching  in  the  forest,  to  waylay  the  gold  on  its  way  down  to 
the  sea.  There  is  not  a  yard  of  earth  where  Ballarat  now 
stands  which  has  not,  within  the  memory  of  many  of  us,  been 
dug  over  and  passed  through  the  sieve.  It  is  now  the  second 
city  in  Victoria,  a  prosperous  town  with  40,000  inhabitants, 
created  in  the  wilderness  as  if  by  Aladdin's  lamp.  Ballarat 
and  the  Ballarat  district  was  our  first  destination.  I  disliked 
the  notion  of  it,  expecting  to  find  merely  an  unlovely  spectacle 
of  insatiable  hunger  for  gold.  In  this,  as  in  many  other  things, 
I  was  to  find  myself  mistaken. 


1 1 8  Oceana. 

Mr.  Gillies  was  waiting  for  us  at  the  station,  with  Chief 
Justice  Way.  We  were  conducted  to  a  superlative  carriage 
lined  with  blue  satin,  with  softest  sofas,  cushions,  armchairs, 
tables  to  be  raised  or  let  down  at  pleasure.  A  butler  was  in 
attendance  in  a  separate  compartment,  with  provision-baskets, 
wine,  fruit,  iced  water,  and  all  other  luxuries  and  conveni- 
ences. Thus  accommodated  we  shot  out  of  Melbourne,  and  for 
the  first  fifty  miles  were  carried  along  the  shores  of  the  great 
inlet  of  Port  Philip.  The  soil  was  bare  and  little  cultivated 
— generally  unoccupied  and  uninteresting.  I  was  struck  in- 
deed with  the  extent  and  solidity  of  the  enclosures — strong 
railings  of  eucalyptus  wood — but  there  was  little  apparently 
to  enclose  except  a  few  cattle.  All  was  changed  as  we  entered 
the  hills.  Here  the  land  had  once  been  densely  wooded.  The 
trees  in  many  places  had  been  cleared  off.  Along  with  the 
railings  we  found  thick-set  hedges  of  thorn  and  gorse  ;  wo 
passed  pretty  farmhouses  with  solid  outbuildings,  cornfields 
and  potato-fields,  cottages  with  their  plots  of  vegetable 
grounds,  park-like  pastures,  cows  and  sheep  abundantly  scat- 
tered over  them,  signs  everywhere  of  vigorous  and  successful 
industry.  At  intervals  the  '  bush '  remained  untouched,  but 
the  universal  eucalyptus,  which  I  had  expected  to  find  grey 
and  monotonous,  was  a  Proteus  in  shape  and  colour,  now 
branching  like  an  oak  or  a  cork  tree,  now  feathered  like  a 
birch,  or  glowing  like  an  arbutus,  with  an  endless  variety  of 
hue — green,  orange,  and  brown.  The  ground  where  it  had 
been  turned  by  the  plough  was  dark  and  rich.  It  was  harvest 
time.  The  corn-shocks  were  standing  English  fashion,  red 
and  yellow,  out  of  the  stubble,  or  were  being  carted  away  and 
raised  into  stacks.  On  the  low  meadows  there  was  hay.  The 
dark-leaved  potatoes,  untouched  by  blight,  were  in  full  blos- 
som. It  seemed  incredible  that  I  was  in  a  new  country  ;  that 
within  half  my  own  life,  all  this  had  been  a  wilderness.  Every 
moment  I  thought  of  Midas — Midas  reversed — not  wholesome 


Approach  to  Ballarat.  119 

things  turned  to  gold,  but  gold  transmuted  into  earth's  choic- 
est treasures. 

We  were  ascending  an  incline,  and  had  risen  at  least  1,500 
feet.  The  air  became  perceptibly  cooler,  the  fertility  more 
and  more  conspicuous.  After  reaching  the  highest  point  we 
ran  along  through  an  undulating  country,  chiefly  pastures, 
with  large  trees  left  standing.  There  was  no  undergrowth, 
no  rocks  or  stones,  only  green  fresh  grass  on  which  sheep 
were  grazing.  Here,  for  the  first  time,  I  saw  the  meaning  of 
the  rabbit  plague  which  has  so  troubled  Australia.  Some 
years  ago  an  enthusiastic  gentleman,  wishing  to  reproduce 
there  all  the  features  of  his  home  life,  introduced  a  few 
couples  of  rabbits.  They  have  multiplied  enormously — in- 
jure the  farmers'  young  crops,  and  have  become  a  general 
nuisance.  The  Victorians  perhaps  exaggerate  the  mischief 
yet  done.  They  are  so  angry  at  Melbourne,  I  was  told,  that 
they  will  no  longer  eat  rabbits,  regarding  them  as  vermin,  like 
rats.  Mr.  Gillies  had  checked  my  satisfaction  at  seeing  the 
gorse  fences  by  denouncing  them  as  a  harbour  for  the  enemy. 
Had  their  numbers  been  so  vast  as  has  been  alleged,  had  they 
really  been  eating  the  sheep  off  the  pastures,  I  must  and 
should  have  seen  more  of  them  than  I  did  see.  In  an  open 
glade  of  the  forest  a  few  miles  from  BaUarat,  there  were,  per- 
haps, a  hundred  of  them  playing  about,  a  third  of  these,  by 
the  bye,  being  black.  One  might  see  as  many,  however,  on 
a  summer  evening  outside  any  wood  in  England  where  game 
is  preserved.  I  suppose  the  Australian  farmers  want  the  tra- 
ditionary reverence  for  the  ferae  natures  which  are  bred  for 
sport. 

As  we  approached  Ballarat  we  left  the  forest  and  came 
among  plantations.  As  the  town  began  to  rise,  they  planted 
Pinus  insignis,  eucalyptus,  magnolia,  Morton  Bay  fig-trees  in 
all  directions  and  in  all  convenient  places.  As  the  houses 
grew  the  trees  grew  which  were  to  shade  them.  A  few  years 


1 20  Oceana. 

in  Australia  will  raise  a  tree  to  a  size  which  it  will  hardly 
reach  in  ten  times  as  many  years  in  our  islands.  They  were 
everywhere — in  yards  and  courts,  in  streets  and  squares. 
They  out-topped  the  chimneys,  and,  in  spite  of  the  common- 
place architecture — no  better  at  Ballarat  than  at  most  other 
places — they  gave  it  an  air  of  grace  and  even  of  beauty,  as 
unlocked  for  as  it  was  agreeable.  There  were,  of  course,  the 
inevitable  engine-works,  great  heaps  of  rubble  and  cinder, 
high  scaffoldings  of  mine- works,  with  wheels  revolving,  and 
the  black  arms  of  the  cranks  rising  and  falling.  Mining  is 
still  the  principal  industry  of  the  place.  The  surface  diggings 
have  been  long  exhausted  ;  but  the  quartz  rock,  of  which  the 
hills  are  chiefly  made,  is  charged  with  gold.  The  rock  is 
quarried  and  crushed,  and  the  gold  is  washed  out  of  the 
gravel.  This  is  not,  however,  the  only  industry.  The  city  of 
Midas  is  a  great  agricultural  centre,  and  is  growing  more  and 
more  so. 

Gold-mining  still  pays  its  way.  The  annual  yield  of  the 
Victorian  mines  is  from  four  to  five  millions,  and  the  cost  of 
producing  it  about  as  much.  This  implies  a  great  many  peo- 
ple earning  high  wages,  the  local  trade  and  business  prosper- 
ing, and  thousands  of  families  maintained  in  comfort ;  but 
other  occupations  are  spreading  by  the  side  of  it,  and  chang- 
ing the  character  of  Ballarat  externally  and  internally. 

We  had  left  Melbourne  early  and  it  was  not  yet  noon.  We 
were  to  sleep  at  Ballarat,  but  were  not  immediately  to  stop 
there ;  we  were  engaged  to  a  luncheon  party  at  a  squatter's 
station,  twenty  miles  beyond,  from  which  we  were  to  return 
in  the  evening.  We  have  all  heard  of  squatters'  stationa 
We  imagine  (at  least  I  did)  a  wild  tract  of  forest,  a  great 
pastoral  range  ;  a  wooden  hut  run  up  in  the  middle  of  it ; 
men,  dogs,  horses,  cattle,  semi-savage  all ;  bush  rangers  per- 
haps skulking  not  far  off;  the  native  and  naked  blacks  of  the 
soil  retiring  slowly  before  advancing  civilisation  and  hovering 


A  Squatter's  Station.  121 

on  the  white  man's  skirts,  and  for  the  rest  the  rude  hospitality 
of  nomad  settlers  amid  a  life  like  that  of  the  ancient  Scythians. 
This  is  what  I  looked  for  when  I  was  told  that  I  was  to  be 
taken  to  a  squatter's  station,  and  the  reality  was  again  unlike 
the  anticipation. 

The  train  stopped  at  a  solitary  halting-place  in  the  midst  of 
a  desolate  expanse  of  rolling  ground,  a  large  lake  in  the  dis- 
tance with  barren  shores,  and  something  like  a  village  in  the 
extreme  distance.  Roads  led  out  straight  in  several  direc- 
tions, all  at  right  angles  to  one  another,  for  the  country  has 
been  laid  out  in  surveyor's  offices  as  the  Roman  provinces 
probably  were,  and  the  highways  run  direct  from  point  to 
point  with  small  regard  to  local  convenience.  A  carriage  was 
waiting  for  us ;  we  drove  in  a  cold  wind  (for  we  were  still 
1,500  feet  above  the  sea)  along  one  of  these  lines,  passable 
enough  in  dry  weather,  and  fenced  in  by  stout  posts  and  rails, 
for  some  twelve  miles.  The  scene  had  gradually  become  less 
dreary.  Trees  became  more  frequent,  and  there  were  stubbles 
where  crops  had  been  reaped.  We  came  at  last  to  a  gate, 
which  needed  only  a  lodge  to  be  like  the  entrance  to  a  great 
English  domain. 

The  park-like  character  was  more  marked  when  we  drove 
through — short  grass,  eucalyptus-trees,  and  black- wood- trees 
scattered  over  it  like  the  oaks  at  Richmond  ;  the  eucalypti, 
ancient  and  venerable,  with  huge  twisted  trunks  and  spread- 
ing branches,  being  exactly  like  oaks  at  a  distance,  while  the 
dark  green  blackwoods  glowing  picturesque  between  them, 
might  have  passed  for  yews.  Sheep  were  browsing  in  hun- 
dreds, perhaps  in  thousands,  and  on  a  wooded  ridge  which 
was  behind  I  was  told  that  there  were  deer. 

The  only  exotic  features  were  the  parrots,  small  and  large, 
which  were  flying  like  cuckoos  from  one  tree  to  another,  flash- 
ing with  blue  and  crimson. 

After  passing  a  second  gate,  we  found  more  variety.     There 


122  Oceana. 

were  plantations  which  had  been  skilfully  made.  English 
trees  were  mixed  with  the  indigenous,  eucalypti  still  prepon- 
derating however,  some  towering  into  the  sky,  some,  as  be- 
fore, fantastically  gnarled  ;  here  and  there  a  dead  one,  stretch- 
ing up  its  gaunt  arms  as  perches  for  the  hawks  and  crows. 
High  hills  stood  out  all  round  us,  covered  with  forest.  The 
drive  was  broad,  level,  and  excellently  kept.  The  plantation 
gradually  became  thicker.  A  third  gate,  and  we  were  be- 
tween high  trimmed  hedges  of  evergreen,  catching  a  sight  at 
intervals  of  a  sheet  of  water  overhung  with  weeping  willows  ; 
a  moment  more,  and  we  were  at  the  door  of  what  might  have 
been  an  ancient  Scotch  manor  house,  solidly  built  of  rough- 
hewn  granite,  the  walls  overrun  with  ivy,  climbing  roses,  and 
other  multitudinous  creepers,  which  formed  a  border  to  the 
diamond-paned,  old-fashioned  windows.  On  the  north  side 
was  a  clean-mown  and  carefully-watered  lawn,  with  tennis- 
ground  and  croquet-ground,  flower-beds,  bright  with  scarlet 
geraniums,  heliotropes,  verbenas,  fuchsias — we  had  arrived, 
in  fact,  fit  an  English  aristocrat's  country  house  reproduced 
in  another  hemisphere,  and  shone  upon  at  night  by  other 
constellations.  Inside,  the  illusion  Avas  even  more  complete. 
The  estate  belonged  to  a  millionaire  who  resided  in  England. 
Ercildoun,  so  the  place  was  called,  was  occupied  by  his  friends. 
We  found  a  high-bred  English  family — English  in  everything 
except  that  they  were  Australian -born,  and  cultivated  perhaps 
above  the  English  average — bright  young  ladies,  well  but  not 
over-dressed  ;  their  tall  handsome  brother ;  our  host,  their 
father,  polite,  gracious,  dignified  ;  our  hostess  with  the  ease 
of  a  cjrande  dame.  Two  young  English  lords  on  their  trav- 
els were  paying  a  visit  there,  who  had  been  up  the  country 
kangaroo-shooting.  Good  pictures  hung  round  the  rooms. 
Books,  reviews,  newspapers,  all  English,  and  '  the  latest  pub- 
lications'  were  strewed  about  the  tables — the  'Saturday,'  the 
'  Spectator,'  and  the  rest  of  them.  The  contrast  between  the 


Ercildoun.  123 

scene  which  I  had  expected  and  the  scene  which  I  found  took 
my  breath  away. 

We  had  luncheon,  and  went  afterwards  for  a  walk.  Skirt- 
ing the  lake,  and  following  the  stream  which  fed  it,  we  as- 
cended a  highland  glen,  amidst  antique  trees,  great  granite 
crags,  and  banks  of  luxuriant  fern.  The  stream  was  divided 
into  ponds,  where  trout  were  bred.  Cascades  fell  from  one 
pond  to  another — not  too  full  of  water  at  that  season — with 
rockeries  and  gravel  walks.  A  strange  black  fish-hawk  rose 
from  a  pool  where  he  had  been  feeding.  Parrots  flashed  and 
glittered.  Alas  !  there  was  no  laughing  jackass.  I  wished 
for  him,  but  he  was  not  there.  The  rest  was  perfect,  but  so 
strange  that  I  could  hardly  believe  it  was  not  a  dream.  Some 
of  the  party  had  guns.  The  Australians  have  a  mania  for 
rabbit-killing,  and  shoot  them  in  season  and  out.  A  few 
were  knocked  over,  and  were  left  lying  where  they  fell.  The 
only  game  brought  home  was  a  kangaroo-rat,  as  large  as  a 
full-sized  hare,  and  for  which  it  had  been  mistaken. 

It  was  a  clay  to  be  remembered,  and  a  scene  to  be  remem- 
bered. Here  was  not  England  only,  but  old-fashioned  bar- 
onial England,  renewing  itself  spontaneously  in  a  land  of 
gold  and  diggers,  a  land  which  in  my  own  recollection  was  a 
convict  drain,  which  we  have  regarded  since  as  a  refuge  for 
the  waifs  and  strays  of  our  superfluous  population,  for  whom 
we  can  find  no  use  at  home.  These  were  the  people  whom 
our  proud  legislature  thought  scarcely  to  be  worth  the 
trouble  of  preserving  as  our  fellow-subjects.  It  seemed  to 
me  as  if  at  no  distant  time  the  condescension  might  be  on 
the  other  side. 

Our  stay  could  be  but  brief.  "We  were  under  orders,  and 
our  minister,  who  had  charge  of  us,  was  peremptory.  There 
was  to  be  a  dinner  at  Ballarat  in  the  evening,  where  we  were 
to  meet  the  leading  citizens.  We  had  twenty  miles  to  go, 
and  we  were  to  drive  the  whole  distance,  as  there  was  more 


124  Oceana. 

to  be  seen  off  the  line  of  the  railway.  I  for  one  left  Ercildoun 
with  a  feeling  that  I  would  gladly  have  remained  a  little 
longer  among  such  pleasant  friends  and  such  charming  sur- 
roundings ;  reflecting,  too,  how  this  particular  form  of  life, 
which  radical  politicians  denounce  as  an  aiiificial  product  of 
a  disordered  society,  is  the  ^ree  growth  of  the  English  nation, 
and  springs  up  of  itself  wherever  Englishmen  are  found. 
Let  me  also  mention  that  the  eldest  son  of  this  luxurious 
family  had,  till  within  a  month  or  two,  been  herding  cattle  in 
Queensland,  doing  the  work  for  four  years  of  the  roughest 
emigrant  field  hand,  yet  had  retained  the  manners  of  the 
finest  of  fine  gentlemen — tall,  spare-loined,  agile  as  a  deer, 
and  with  a  face  which  might  have  belonged  to  Sir  Launcelot. 
I  have  ungratefully  forgotten  his  name,  and  even  the  name  of 
the  family.  It  was  the  type  which  struck  me. 

Three  hours  of  driving  brought  us  back  to  Ballarat,  and  to 
our  rooms  and  our  banquet  at  the  hotel.  The  evening  had 
been  chilly  as  in  an  English  May.  The  changes  of  tempera- 
ture in  these  highlands  are  trying.  Mr.  Gillies  proved  a  most 
agreeable  companion.  He  entertained  us  with  stories  of  the 
political  adventures  of  the  Colony  since  the  establishment  of 
responsible  government,  in  many  of  which  he  had  himself 
borne  his  part.  Government  by  parties  is  a  historical  growth 
of  English  development  due  to  causes  peculiar  to  ourselves. 
The  meaning  of  it  has  been  the  orderly  transition  from  one 
state  of  civilisation  to  another  ;  and  now  that  the  transition 
has  been  accomplished,  and  party  lines  no  longer  correspond 
to  natural  lines,  it  has  become  doubtful  whether,  even  among 
ourselves,  it  works  with  perfect  success.  Every  wise  English 
politician  is  both  Radical  and  Conservative.  He  has  two  eyes  to 
see  with  and  two  hands  to  work  with,  and  to  condemn  him 
to  be  one  or  the  other  is  to  put  one  eye  out  and  to  tie  one 
hand  behind  his  back.  To  colonies  where  it  has  no  natural 
appropriateness  at  all,  where  party  is  purely  artificial,  and 


Stay  at  Ballarat.  125 

party  politics  therefore  are  not  a  contest  of  principles  but  a 
contest  of  intrigues,  only  an  English  conviction  that  what  is 
good  for  ourselves  must  be  good  for  all  mankind,  could  have 
induced  us  to  think  of  applying  it.  General  good  sense  has 
happily  neutralised  in  a  great  degree  the  anomalies  of  the 
system.  When  the  moral  health  is  sound,  the  political 
health  cannot  be  seriously  disordered. 

The  morning  and  evening  were  but  one  day,  since  we  left 
Melbourne.  If  time  is  measured  by  sequence  of  impressions 
it  had  been  far  the  longest  in  my  life.  We  were  hardly 
equal  to  the  dinner  in  which  it  was  to  end.  But  our  Ballarat 
friends  were  very  good.  They  talked  to  us  instead  of  expect- 
ing us  to  talk  to  them,  and  soon  left  us  to  rest  in  the  sumpt- 
uous quarters  which  had  been  provided  for  us. 

The  day  following  was  to  be  given  to  gold  mines.  The 
surface  diggings,  as  I  said,  are  exhausted,  for  the  present, 
everywhere,  and  at  Ballarat  there  were  no  longer  any  alluvial 
diggings  whatever.  The  gold  now  raised  there  was  entirely 
from  the  quartz  rock.  But  there  were  deep  alluvial  mines 
worked  by  companies  and  machinery  some  twenty  miles  off. 
It  was  in  these  only  that  the  large  nuggets  were  found,  and 
we  were  to  be  taken  to  see  one  of  the  richest  of  them,  which 
had  been  lately  opened.  The  weather  had  become  hot  again. 
The  roads  in  dry  weather  are  six  inches  deep  in  dust.  But 
we  were  to  go  ;  our  entertainers  were  our  masters,  and  in- 
deed we  were  all  glad  to  go.  The  mine  itself  was  a  thing  to 
be  seen  once  at  any  rate. 

We  were  started  after  an  early  breakfast.  Our  way  led 
through  primitive  forest,  through  farms  in  all  stages  of  prog- 
ress, through  towns  so  called,  but  plots  of  ground  rather, 
intending  by-and-by  to  be  towns.  At  these  places  a  visit 
from  a  Cabinet  Minister  was  as  a  visit  from  an  Olympian  god. 
Notice  of  our  coming  must  have  been  sent  forward.  Where- 
ever  we  stopped  to  change  horses  groups  of  gentlemen  were 


126  Oceana. 

waiting1,  with  preparations  of  fruit  and  champagne  ;  we  might 
have  floated  in  champagne,  they  were  so  liberal  to  us.  The 
country  was  tolerably  level,  but  at  intervals  were  singular 
circular  hills,  rounded  off  at  the  top,  like  sections  of  oranges 
which  have  been  cut  in  two  in  the  middle.  These  hills  were 
five  or  six  hundred  feet  high,  and  perhaps  a  mile  in  circum- 
ference. "Whether  they  had  a  rock  base  or  were  merely  earth- 
heaps,  I  could  not  learn,  but  the  soil  on  them  was  extremely 
rich,  as  we  could  see  from  the  colour  of  the  furrows  and  the 
care  with  which  they  were  cultivated.  Before  arriving  at  the 
mine  we  passed  through  a  location  of  Chinese,  whose  busi- 
ness it  was  to  raise  vegetables  for  the  workmen,  and  wash 
their  clothes.  Very  good,  useful  people,  as  far  as  I  could 
learn,  and  as  I  afterwards  found  them  to  be  when  I  fell  in 
with  them.  We  came  at  last  to  the  foot  of  a  steep  hill,  rising 
out  of  a  valley  which  was  crowned  by  a  high  aqueduct. 
The  aqueduct  brought  water  to  the  mine-shaft,  which  we 
saw  above  us  on  the  hillside,  with  great  wheels,  platform, 
chimneys,  and  miscellaneous  buildings.  The  horses  took  us 
up  with  difficulty.  We  alighted  dust-powdered  at  the  office, 
cleaned  ourselves,  and  were  then  conducted  to  the  workings. 
When  a  vein  of  alluvial  gold  has  been  once  struck,  an  ex- 
perienced eye  can  tell,  by  the  he  of  the  ground,  the  direction 
in  which  it  will  run.  It  flows  like  an  underground  stream, 
following  laws  of  its  own,  which  the  miners  have  generally 
made  out.  Sometimes  tbey  make  a  mistake,  and  fortunes 
are  staked  and  lost  in  sinking  shafts  in  vain.  In  this  happy 
instance  they  had  struck  not  only  into  the  gold  vein,  but  into 
some  deep  pockets  in  it,  and  the  shareholders  were  dividing 
splendid  profits.  The  shaft  was  700  feet  deep,  from  the  bot- 
tom of  which  the  auriferous  gravel  was  brought  up  by  the 
wheel  to  a  platform  where  the  buckets  were  emptied  into 
trucks.  The  trucks  are  sent  along  a  rail  to  the  washing 
troughs.  There  a  rush  of  water  is  let  loose  upon  the  dirt- 


Australian  Fanning.  127 

heap,  violent  enough,  it  would  seeru  to  sweep  everything  be- 
fore it,  but  it  only  sweeps  away  the  stones  and  gravel.  The 
gold,  from  its  great  weight,  sinks  to  the  bottom  and  there 
remains.  We  saw  two  or  three  cartloads  of  gravel  washed, 
and  a  hundred  and  sixty  pounds  worth  of  gold  taken  out  of 
it.  The  directors  gave  us  each  a  nugget  worth  a  couple  of 
sovereigns  as  a  j^membrance.  The  romance  of  the  digging 
is  gone ;  the  rough  independent  life,  the  delightful  trusting 
to  luck,  the  occasional  great  prize  drawn  in  the  lottery  ;  the 
long  fever  of  hope  generally,  but  not  always,  disappointed. 
It  is  now  a  regular  industry.  The  men  have  their  regular 
wages — twelve  and  fifteen  shillings  a  day.  The  capitalists 
have  the  risk  and,  on  the  whole,  neither  lose  nor  gain. 

I  had  seen  the  thing,  and  it  was  enough.  I  could  not  care 
a  great  deal  for  it.  If  they  had  been  ma/cing  the  gold  it  would 
have  been  interesting,  but  they  are  only  finding  it  ;  and  the 
finding,  when  it  lost  its  uncertainties  and  was  reduced  to 
averages,  had  lost  its  chief  human  charm.  If  one  was  bored 
however,  one  was  bound  to  try  to  conceal  it.  I  was  repaid 
for  everything  on  my  way  home.  I  felt  like  Saul,  the  son  of 
Kish,  who  went  to  seek  his  father's  asses  and  found  a  king- 
dom. We  were  taken  back  through  what  was  called  'the 
fertile  district '  of  Ballarat.  The  wheat  was  gone  ;  the  thick 
stubble  only  remained  to  show  where  it  had  been  ;  but  oats, 
barley,  peas,  beans,  potatoes  were  in  the  fields,  and  after  the 
sight  of  them  I  could  believe  Herodotus's  account  of  the  crops 

grown  on  the  plains  of  Babylon.     E ,  who  knows  what 

agriculture  is,  and  had  been  all  over  the  world,  said  that  he 
had  never  seen  the  like  of  it.  An  oat  crop  was  half-cut. 
Where  the  reaping  machine  had  stopped,  it  was  standing  like 
a  wall — so  thick  that  a  horse  could  scarcely  have  forced  a  way 
through  it,  and  so  clean  of  weeds  that  there  was  nothing  like 
one  visible.  Weeds  indeed  are  said  to  be  a  product  of  high 
civilisation,  and  not  to  exist  in  a  state  of  nature.  For  seven- 


128  Oceana. 

teen  years  they  have  been  cropping  this  land  without  manur- 
ing it,  aud  there  is  no  symptom  of  exhaustion.  Each  harvest 
is  as  rich  as  the  last.  When  earth  is  so  kind,  men  cannot 
choose  but  be  happy.  The  human  occupiers  of  these  farms 
live  each  on  his  own  freehold,  or,  if  tenants,  with  no  danger 
of  disturbance.  They  have  pretty  houses,  smartly  kept  and 
bright  with  paint  ;  and  trellis-vines  creep  over  the  veraudahed 
fronts,  and  the  slopes  or  lawns  are  bright  with  roses.  The 
orchards  round  them  reminded  me  of  the  Boers'  orchards  in 
the  Free  States  ;  peaches  and  apricots,  almonds,  figs,  pears, 
and  apples — all  thriving  as  if  they  had  taken  fresh  life  in  the 
new  land  where  they  found  themselves  ;  and  the  men  and 
women  seemed  as  thriving  too,  with  the  courteous  manners 
of  independent  gentlemen  and  Lulies.  If  English  farmers 
and  farm-labourers  could  but  ses  what  I  s:\w  that  day  (and  I 
am  informed  that  other  parts  of  the  colony  were  as  much 
richer  than  this  as  this  was  richer  than  my  own  Devonshire) 
there  would  be  swift  transfers  over  the  seas  of  our  heavy- 
laden  '  agricultural  population.'  The  landed  interest  itself — 
gentry  and  all — will  perhaps  one  day  migrate  en  masse  to  a 
country  where  they  can  live  in  their  own  way  without  fear 
of  socialism  or  graduated  income-tax,  and  leave  England  and 
English  progress  to  blacken  in  its  own  smoke. 

Drought  is  the  worst  enemy  in  Australia,  but  rain  falls 
sufficient  for  all  necessities,  and  only  asks  to  be  taken  care  of. 
In  a  gorge  among  some  high  hills  the  Ballarat  corporation 
have  made  a  reservoir  as  big  as  a  large  lake.  The  embank- 
ment across  the  neck  of  the  valley  is  a  fine  piece  of  engineer- 
ing work,  and  on  our  way  back  we  made  a  circuit  to  see  it. 
Mr.  Ruskin  complained  of  Thirlmei-e  being  turned  into  a 
tank ;  Glasgow  has  laid  down  pipes  to  Loch  Katrine  ;  yet 
Loch  Katrine's  beauty  has  not  been  vulgarised,  has  not  been 
affected  at  all,  for  the  pipes  are  out  of  sight.  I  could  never 
see  that  Bavenscrag  would  hang  less  grandly  over  the  lower 


A   Cottage  Garden.  129 

Like  at  Thirlmere,  or  the  birch  sprays  float  less  freely  over 
the  becks  that  foam  down  its  glens  because  the  Lancashire 
millions  were  to  be  supplied  with  unpolluted  water  from  it. 
Here,  however,  there  was  nothing  to  spoil.  The  useful  has 
created  the  beautiful.  There  is  a  sheet  of  water  produced  by 
a  mere  desire  to  prevent  Nature's  best  gift  from  running  to 
waste,  which,  with  the  pine-groves  planted  round  its  shores, 
will  look  as  well  as  any  other  inland  lake  in  future  water- 
colour  art  exhibitions.  We  stopped  for  a  few  minutes  at  a 
roadside  hotel,  near  the  end  of  the  embankment,  to  rest  our 
horses.  It  was  tidily  kept  and  picturesquely  situated.  The 
little  wicket  gate  was  open.  I  strayed  in  and  found  myself  in 
the  garden  of  an  English  cottage,  among  cabbage-roses,  pinks, 
sweet-williams,  white  flox,  columbines,  white  lilies  and  orange, 
syringas,  laburnums,  lilacs.  Beneath  the  railings  were  beds 
of  violet  and  periwinkle,  and  on  a  wall  a  monthly  rose  was 
intertwining  with  jessamine  and  honeysuckle.  The  emigrants 
who  had  made  their  home  there  had  brought  with  them  seeds 
and  cuttings  from  the  old  home.  They  were  '  singing  the 
Lord's  song  in  a  strange  land.' 

A  second  dinner  party  wound  up  the  evening.  The  leading 
men  in  Ballarat  were  brought  together  to  meet  us,  and  we 
were  filled  with  information  as  freely  as  with  champagne. 
The  Australians  in  one  point  are  agreeably  different  from  our 
cousins  west  of  the  Atlantic.  The  American  puts  you  through 
a  catechism  of  interrogatories.  The  Australian  talks  freely, 
but  asks  few  questions,  and  does  not  insist  on  having  your 
opinion  of  him  and  his  institutions — a  commendable  feature 
in  him.  But  he  does  insist  that  you  shall  see  what  he  has  to 
show.  The  ambitious  young  community  does  not  import  its 
rails  or  engines  or  machinery.  It  supplies  its  own.  Next 
day,  with  a  temperature  of  90°  in  the  shade,  we  were  taken 
to  the  workshops  and  foundries,  and  were  set  to  roast  before 
the  furnaces.  I  bore  it,  but  didn't  like  it.  I  had  seen  other 
9 


130  Ocean  a. 

works  of  the  same  kind.  Thence  \ve  went  to  the  town-hall, 
which,  though  the  town  is  proud  of  it,  is  very  like  other  town- 
halls.  From  the  town-hall  we  went  to  the  'Mills.'  The 
quartz-crushing  was  at  least  new,  and  had  a  certain  clangor- 
ous significance.  Thirty  huge  cylinders  of  steel  stood  verti- 
cally in  a  row,  in  oiled  sockets.  A  powerful  steam-engine 
lifted  them  and  let  them  fall,  like  hammers  of  the  Cyclops. 
They  were  fed  with  quartz  blocks  from  boxes  behind  each, 
and  the  smashed  particles  fell  into  a  trough,  as  at  the  alluvial 
diggings,  where  a  rush  of  water  purged  away  the  lighter  stone 
and  left  the  gold  behind. 

Deafened  by  the  noise,  fainting  with  the  heat,  and  wearied 
with  the  endless  talk  about  gold,  I  made  my  escape,  and  was 
taken  possession  of  by  a  kind  Samaritan  who  had  a  carnage 
and  a  pair  of  horses.  He  drove  me  about  the  town,  showed  me 
sumptuous-looking  palaces,  and  described  the  fortunes  of  their 
owners,  the  lucky  survivors  of  the  race  of  original  diggers. 
Finally,  he  brought  me  to  the  gates  of  the  park,  where  we 
found  the  rest  of  our  party  assembled.  It  then  appeared  how 
skilfully  our  entertainment  had  been  arranged.  We  had 
been  passed  through  Purgatory  in  the  morning  that  we  might 
enjoy  Paradise  afterwards — literally  Paradise — for  Paradise 
means  Park,  and  here  was  a  park  worth  the  name.  I  have 
already  expressed  my  admiration  of  the  Australian  gardens, 
but  this  at  Ballarat  excelled  them  all.  It  was  as  if  the  town 
council  had  decided  to  show  what  gold  and  science  could  do 
with  such  a  soil  and  climate.  The  roses  which  bloom  ill  on 
the  hotter  lowlands  were  here,  owing  to  the  height  above  the 
sea,  abundant  and  beautiful  as  in  Veitch's  nurseries  at  mid- 
summer. Besides  roses,  every  flower  was  there  which  was 
either  fair  to  look  upon  or  precious  for  its  fragrance.  There 
were  glass  houses  to  protect  the  delicate  plants  in  the  winter  ; 
but  oranges  and  camelias,  which  we  know  only  in  conserva- 
tories, grow  without  fear  iu  the  open  air,  and  survive  the 


An  Australian  Paradise.  131 

worst  cold  which  Ballarat  experiences.  A  broad  gravel-walk 
led  up  the  middle  of  the  grounds,  with  lateral  paths  all  daint- 
ily kept.  Dark  shadowy  labyrinths  conducted  us  into  cool 
grottoes  overhung  by  tree-ferns,  where  young  lovers  could 
whisper  undisturbed,  and  those  who  were  not  lovers  could 
read  novels.  Such  variety,  such  splendour  of  colour,  such 
sweetness,  such  grace  in  the  distribution  of  the  treasures  col- 
lected there,  I  had  never  found  combined  before,  and  never 
shall  find  again.  Even  this  lovely  place  had  its  drawbacks. 
There  were  snakes  there,  and  bad  ones,  though  I  did  not  see 
any.  I  did,  however,  see  an  enemy  whom  the  gardeners  hate 
worse  than  snakes.  I  was  stooping  to  examine  a  bed  of  car- 
nations, when  a  large  buck  rabbit  jumped  out  of  the  middle 
of  it.  No  fence  will  keep  them  out.  If  they  cannot  fly  over 
it  they  will  burrow  under  like  moles,  and  nothing  is  safe  from 
them. 

The  wonders  of  the  Park,  however,  were  not  exhausted. 
Following  a  winding  path  through  a  thicket,  we  came  on  a 
stream  of  water,  not  very  clear,  which  ran  into  and  filled  a 
pond.  This,  I  was  informed,  was  a  breeding-place  for  trout. 
As  the  pond  in  question  was  of  the  colour  and  consistency  of 
a  duck  pond  in  an  English  farm-yard,  all  the  marvels  which 
we  had  witnessed  could  not  prevent  us  from  being  sceptical 
about  the  trout.  No  form  of  Salmonidse  known  in  Europe 
could  live  five  minutes  in  such  a  hot,  filthy  puddle.  But  the 
Salmonidse  must  change  their  nature  in  the  antipodes.  To 
satisfy  our  doubts  a  net  was  drawn  through  the  water,  and 
several  hundred  fish  the  size  of  minnows  were  brought  out — 
fat,  and  in  perfect  health,  with  the  pink  spots  upon  them — 
unmistakable  trout.  Nor  was  the  destination  of  them  much 
less  curious.  The  stream  led  on  to  a  broad  green  meadow 
shaded  by  the  large  weeping  willows  which  I  have  already 
spoken  of  as  so  fine  and  so  common — great  trees  with  trunks 
three  feet  in  diameter.  The  meadow  bordered  upon  an  arti- 


1 02  Oceana. 

licial  lake  four  times  the  size  of  the  Serpentine,  and  supplied 
with  water  from  the  reservoirs  in  the  hills. 

The  park  and  the  lake  are  the  recreation-ground  of  the  youth 
of  Ballarat.  In  the  meadow  the  children  were  playing  in 
hundreds,  looked  after  by  the  nursery  maids,  while  the  elders 
sat  on  the  benches  in  the  shade.  Well-dressed  ladies  lounged 
up  and  down,  while  barges,  bright  with  flags  and  ladies'  para- 
sols, were  passing  along  the  shore.  Here  the  lads  have  their 
boat-races.  Dandy  little  yachts  of  eight  and  ten  tons,  like 
those  at  Windermere,  lay  at  anchor,  to  enter  for  the  cup  on 
regatta  days.  Across  the  lake  is  the  shortest  cut  to  the  city, 
and  steam  launches,  with  awnings  spread  and  music  playing, 
ferried  their  human  freight  backwards  and  forwards.  Wild 
swans,  wild  ducks,  large  coots  with  crimson  heads,  which 
found  shelter  in  the  reed-beds,  rose  trumpeting  or  crying, 
sailed  round  and  settled  down  again.  The  water  has  been 
stocked  with  fish  :  perch,  roach,  and  trout.  Those  which  we 
had  just  seen  were  to  be  turned  in.  For  some  reason,  I  know 
not  what,  they  thrive  in  an  extraordinary  way.  I  saw  a  trout 
of  twelve  pounds  weight  which  had  been  lately  taken  out. 
The  citizens  have  free  leave  to  fish,  subject  to  certain  condi- 
tions. I  forget  how  many  tons  were  taken  out  last  year, 
chiefly  perch,  which  are  also  of  unusual  size.  Certainly  this 
was  a  singular  thing  to  have  been  created  in  the  middle  of  a 
desert. 

While  we  were  admiring,  a  steam  launch  came  for  us  to  the 
lauding  pier.  The  head  gardener  Avho  had  accompanied  us 
to  the  water,  presented  us  each  with  a  bouquet  of  exotics,  the 
like  of  which  could  hardly  be  put  together  at  Kew  or  Chis- 
wick.  The  engineer  blew  his  whistle  ;  we  stepped  on  board 
and  were  carried  across  in  time  for  a  luncheon  at  the  mayor- 
alty. We  made  our  acknowledgments  for  the  hearty  and  kind 
hospitality  which  we  had  met  with  ;  and  thus  closed  our  stay 
hi  the  Golden  City,  which  we  left  with  admiration  and  regret 


Impressions  of  Ballarat.  133 

On  the  whole  Ballarat  had  surprised  and  charmed  me.  There 
may  be,  there  doubtless  are,  aspects  of  colonial  life  less  agree- 
able than  those  which  I  have  described.  Most  of  the  sight- 
seeing, most  of  the  champagne,  might  very  well  have  been 
dispensed  with.  But  the  people  had  but  one  wish — to  make 
us  feel,  wherever  we  went,  that  we  were  among  our  own  kins- 
men. Personally  I  was  grateful  to  them  for  their  kindness. 
As  an  Englishman  I  was  proud  of  what  they  had  accomplished 
within  the  brief  limit  of  half  my  own  years.  Of  their  energy, 
and  of  what  it  had  achieved,  there  can  be  no  question,  for  the 
city  and  its  surroundings  speak  for  themselves.  People  have 
Avritten  to  me  to  say  that  we  were  purposely  shown  the  bright 
side  of  things,  that  we  let  ourselves  be  flattered,  be  deluded, 
<fec.  Very  likely  !  There  was  mud  as  well  as  gold  in  the 
alluvial  mines.  The  manager  pointed  out  the  gold  to  us  and 
left  the  mud  unpointed  out.  The  question  was  not  of  the 
mud  at  all,  but  of  the  quality  and  quantity  of  the  gold.  All 
things  have  their  seamy  aspects.  If  there  is  gold,  and  much 
of  it,  that  is  the  chief  point.  The  mud  may  be  taken  for 
granted.  But  for  myself  I  can  relate  only  what  I  myself  saw, 
and  the  impression  which  it  made  upon  me.  Readers  may 
make  such  deductions  as  they  please. 


134  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  IX. 

Bendigo — Sandhurst — Descent  into  a  gold  mine — Hospitalities — Desire 
for  confederation — Mount  Macedon — Summer  residence  of  the  Gov- 
ernor— Sir  George  Verdon— St.  Hubert's — Wine  growing — Extreme 
heat — Mr.  Castella — Expedition  to  Fernshaw — Gigantic  trees — A  pic- 
nic— A  forest  fire — Return  to  Melbourne. 

BALLARAT  is  not  the  only  gold-centre.  We  all  remember  to 
have  heard  of  Bendigo,  or  the  New  Rush.  Bendigo  is  now 
the  town  of  Sandhurst,  a  thousand  feet  below  Ballarat,  a  hun- 
dred miles  from  it  on  the  interior  watershed,  where  the 
streams  run  towards  the  Murray.  To  Sandhurst  we  were 
next  to  go.  After  the  Ballaret  luncheon  the  special  train  re- 
ceived us  again.  It  was  a  hot  afternoon,  which  grew  hotter 
as  we  descended.  The  surface  of  the  country  through  which 
we  travelled  had  been  scratched  and  scored  by  the  old  dig- 
gers ;  pits,  holes,  long  trenches,  with  broken  wheels  and  tim- 
berwork,  indicating  where  the  departed  ant-swarms  had  been 
busy.  All  this  is  over  now  ;  '  companies '  have  taken  the 
mining  business  everywhere  into  their  own  hands,  some 
splendidly  successful,  some  falling  to  pieces  in  bankruptcy, 
and  instantly  commencing  again.  It  is  a  gigantic  gambling 
system,  which,  however,  the  Colony  can  afford.  The  com- 
munity prospers.  Individuals  who  are  down  to-day  are  up 
to-moiTow,  and  the  loss,  when  there  is  loss,  is  spread  over  so 
large  an  area  that  it  is  not  seriously  felt.  Nothing  can  go 
seriously  wrong  when  the  common  labourer's  wages  are  8s.  a 
day. 

Hot  as  the  weather  was,  the  land  did  not  seem  to  suffer 


Sandhurst.  135 

much  from  drought.  The  forest  was  thick  where  the  diggers 
had  not  destroyed  it.  For  the  last  thirty  miles  we  passed 
through  a  continuous,  well-wooded  park,  the  grass  green 
under  the  trees  and  the  richer  soils  enclosed  and  cultivated. 
Kabbits  in  plenty  were  running  about.  Sheep  were  lying 
down  contented,  in  the  long  evening  shadows  ;  and  though 
the  air  was  like  a  furnace,  it  was  all  very  pretty  and  peaceful. 
In  building  Sandhurst,  as  in  building  Ballarat,  the  people 
had  thought  first  of  shelter  from  the  heat.  The  pine-trees 
towered  above  the  houses  as  we  approached,  and  stretched 
out  in  long  lines  till  we  lost  the  end  of  them  in  the  distance. 
The  mayor  of  the  city  was  waiting  for  us  at  the  station.  He 
took  me  off  with  him  at  once  in  his  carriage.  In  the  first 
minute  he  told  me  that  they  had  planted  a  hundred  miles  of 
avenue,  'and  all  paid  for.'  In  the  second  minute  he  told  me 
that  they  had  30,000  inhabitants  there,  but  were  crying  out 
for  more.  He  was  a  Scotchman,  I  suppose,  for  he  said,  '  We 
want  more  Scots.  Give  us  Scots.  Give  us  the  whole  popula- 
tion of  Glasgow  ;  we  will  take  them  in,  and  find  work  for  them, 
and  make  Sandhurst  the  world's  wonder.'  We  were  set  down 
at  the  'Grand  Hotel,'  a  fine  aiiy  mansion  looking  out  upon  a 
broad  street,  with  porches,  verandahs,  and  long,  overhanging 
balconies.  Flowers  and  flowering  trees  were  all  around  us. 
The  moon  was  rising  full  over  the  roofs,  and  the  still  slowly 
cooling  atmosphere  was  loaded  with  perfume.  Mosquitoes, 
'sweet  companions  of  our  midnight  solitude,' unfoi'tunately 
swarmed  ;  but  we  kept  them  at  bay  with  curtains,  and  heai'd 
only  the  grim  notes  of  their  trumpets  as  they  struggled  to 
make  their  way  to  us  through  the  network.  There  had  been 
none  at  Ballarat,  and  we  had  forgotten  the  existence  of  such 
things. 

Ballarat  had  entertained  us  handsomely  ;  the  mayor  of 
Sandhurst  was  not  to  be  outdone.  In  the  morning  we  found 
that  he  had  watered  the  roads  for  us,  that  we  might  not  suf- 


136  Oceana. 

fer  from  the  dust — the  mayor,  or  perhaps  the  three  mayors ; 
for  Sandhurst,  like  other  places,  is  '  a  city  divided  against 
itself.'  There  is  an  Upper  Sandhurst  and  a  Lower  Sandhurst, 
each  with  its  own  town-hall  and  corporation,  and  a  superior 
opinion  of  itself  in  comparison  with  its  rival.  And  there  is  a 
suburb  four  miles  out,  called  Eaglehurst,  with  another  cor- 
poration, the  principle  of  local  self-government  being  in  full 
development.  Eaglehurst  is  the  latest-born  of  the  group, 
being  the  offspring  of  the  exceptionally  rich  gold  veins  which 
have  been  found  in  the  quartz  rock  there.  The  mines  at 
Eaglehurst  were  the  jewels  of  the  district,  and  as  we  could 
not  see  all,  we  went  to  see  them.  It  stands  high,  on  the 
crest  of  a  ridge,  and  looks  higher  than  it  is,  from  the  white 
piles  of  stone  raised  out  of  the  shafts,  and  the  huge  chim- 
neys and  wheels  and  engine- works.  Orders  had  evidently 
been  issued  that  we  should  be  received  with  distinction. 
Mine-captains  and  miners  were  waiting  our  arrival ;  we  were 
invited  to  go  down  into  the  mine  itself.  A  rough  suit  of 
clothes  was  provided  for  each  of  us,  and  I  and  two  or  three 
others  squeezed  ourselves  into  a  lift,  and  with  candles  in  our 
hands,  descended  easily  and  rapidly  700  feet.  We  were 
landed  in  a  gallery  which  had  been  the  track  of  a  gold  seam 
through  the  rock.  The  white  quartz  glittering  with  iron 
pyrites  in  the  light  of  our  candles,  the  gold  crystals  sparkling 
on  the  splintered  surface,  was  like  a  scene  out  of  the  '  Tales 
of  the  Genii.'  Gnomes  or  trolls  should  have  been  grinning 
at  us  from  the  black  shadowy  corners ;  but  neither  gnome 
nor  troh1  is  known,  so  far,  to  have  emigrated  into  these  re- 
gions. The  floor  was  clean  and  dry  under  foot.  There  was 
no  afterdamp  or  mephitic  vapour  to  threaten  explosions  ;  we 
wandered  about  collecting  specimens  till  we  were  tired,  and 
then  were  lifted  into  the  upper  air  again,  as  easily  (in  spite 
of  Vii-gil)  as  we  had  descended.  The  mine  was  a  thing  to  be 
remembered.  Back  in  daylight  and  restored  to  our  own 


Sandhurst.  137 

clothes,  we  had  to  be  conducted  over  the  crushing  mills. 
They  were  identical  with  those  which  we  had  seen  already — 
the  same  row  of  cylinders  thumping  down  upon  the  stone, 
the  same  roar  of  machinery,  and  the  same  results  ;  but  the 
good  people  were  proud  of  them  and  we  could  not  be  im- 
patient after  the  trouble  which  they  had  taken  to  please  us. 
Champagne  and  fruit  were  laid  out  in  a  workshed,  and  out 
of  a  tray  of  quartz  fragments  bright  with  sprays  of  native 
gold  we  were  invited  to  take  what  we  pleased  and  carry  them 
home  with  us.  We  made  such  acknowledgment  as  we  could, 
and  our  words  said  less  than  we  felt.  A  set  luncheon  fol- 
lowed, with  more  champagne,  and  we  had  to  make  speeches. 
Eaglehurst,  however,  was  not  to  be  preferred  to  Sandhurst, 
so  we  had  to  be  brief  and  hurry  down  to  a  second  luncheon, 
and  more  champagne  and  more  speeches.  The  occasion  was 
used  for  very  warm  expressions  on  the  confederation  with 
the  mother  country.  The  general  feeling  was  that  there  had 
been  enough  of  jealousy  and  distrust.  England  and  the  Col- 
onies were  one  race,  and  ought  to  be  politically  one.  I  felt 
myself  challenged  to  say  something  at  one  of  these  feasts,  I 
think  it  was  at  Eaglehurst ;  so  I  was  as  enthusiastic  as  they 
were,  and  laid  the  fault  on  the  politicians,  who  brought  peo- 
ple into  quarrels  when  the  people  themselves  wished  for 
nothing  so  little.  I  told  a  story  of  two  gentlemen  who,  after 
some  small  difference,  had  been  drawn  into  a  duel  by  their 
friends,  the  friends  declaring  that  the  matter  could  not  be 
settled  without  an  exchange  of  shots.  As  the  principal 
parties  were  being  led  to  their  places,  one  whispered  to  the 
other,  'If  you  will  shoot  your  second,  I  will  shoot  mine.' 
There  was  much  laughing,  and  a  voice  called  out,  '  Do  you 
want  us  to  shoot  our  Ministers? '  As  Mr.  Gillies  was  present 
I  had  to  be  careful,  but  indeed  it  was  not  Colonial  Ministers 
that  I  was  thinking  of  at  all,  but  one  or  two  whom  I  could 
mention  at  home.  Though  in  superabundance,  the  cham- 


138  Oceana. 

pagne  was  good,  and  we  suffered  less  from  it  than  might  have 
been  expected.  All  was  heartiness  and  good  humour,  and  as 
I  look  back  upon  those  scenes,  I  see,  in  the  warm  welcome 
which  was  extended  to  us,  less  a  compliment  to  our  personal 
selves,  than  a  display  of  their  affection  for  the  mother  country, 
and  a  determination  not  to  be  divided  from  it. 

This  was  our  last  experience  with  the  gold  mines ;  and  I 
can  only  say  that  if  all  the  gold  in  the  world  was  turned  to  as 
good  account  as  the  Victorian  Colonists  are  turning  theirs, 
reformers  and  friends  of  humanity  might  wrap  themselves  in 
blankets  and  sleep. 

Once  more  to  the  railway  and  to  a  change  of  scene.  It 
was  now  the  31st  of  January,  the  hottest  part  of  the  Austra- 
lian dog-days.  At  this  time  of  year  Melbourne,  generally 
cool  and  pleasant,  becomes  oppressive,  especially  to  children. 
Those  who  can  be  absent  go  for  the  season  to  Tasmania.  Sir 
Henry  Loch,  who  was  obliged  to  remain  within  reach  of  his 
advisers,  had  removed  with  his  family  to  a  cottage  in  the 
mountains,  3,000  feet  above  the  sea,  forty  miles  only  from 
Melbourne,  and  near  the  Sandhurst  and  Melbourne  line. 
Here  he  had  kindly  requested  us  to  rejoin  him.  It 
was  called  Mount  Macedon  from  the  hill  on  which  it  stood. 
How  the  hill  came  by  its  title  I  clo  not  know.  The  native 
names  are  shapeless  and  ugly.  The  first  European  owner 
perhaps  took  the  readiest  designation  Avhich  he  found  in  his 
classical  dictionary.  At  a  roadside  station  we  parted  from 
our  escort  and  his  sumptuous  carriage,  he  to  go  on  to  Mel- 
bourne and  prepare  another  excursion  for  us,  we  to  make  our 
way  in  a  post  cart  to  the  mountain  which  we  saw  rising  be- 
fore us,  clothed  from  foot  to  crest  with  gigantic  gum-trees. 
There  was  forest  all  about  us  as  far  as  eye  could  reach.  We 
had  been  warned  that  we  were  going  into  a  wilderness  ;  but 
it  was  a  civilised  wilderness,  as  will  be  seen.  After  driving 
four  or  five  miles  we  came  to  the  foot  of  Mount  Macedon,  up 


Mount  Macedon.  139 

the  side  of  which  the  horses  had  to  crawl.  After  ascending 
four  hundred  feet  we  found  a  level  plateau,  laid  out  prettily 
with  cottages,  a  good-looking  house  or  two,  and  an  English- 
lookingvillage  church.  A  short  descent  again,  and  then  an 
equal  rise,  brought  us  to  the  gate  of  the  summer  residence  of 
the  Governor,  a  long,  low,  one-storeyed  building  with  a 
deep  verandah  round  it,  clustered  over  with  creepers.  As  at 
Madeira,  where  the  climate  changes  with  the  elevation,  and 
an  hour's  ride  will  take  you  from  sugar-canes  into  snow,  so 
here  we  found  the  flora  of  temperate  regions  in  full  vigour, 
which  refuse  to  grow  at  all  at  the  lower  levels.  We  had  still 
the  gum-trees  about  us,  shooting  up  freely,  two  hundred  feet 
or  more  ;  some  magnificent,  in  full  foliage  ;  others  naked, 
bare,  and  skeleton-Like,  having  been  killed  \>j  bush  fires  ;  but 
round  the  house,  oaks  and  elms,  cypress  and  deodara  seemed 
at  home  and  happy  ;  filbert-trees  were  bending  with  fruit  too 
abundant  for  them  to  ripen,  while  the  grounds  were  blazing 
with  roses  and  geraniums  and  gladiolas.  The  Australian  plain 
spread  out  far  below  our  feet,  the  horizon  forty  miles  away  ; 
the  reddish-green  of  the  near  eucalyptus  softening  off  into  the 
transparent  blue  of  distance.  Behind  the  house,  the  moun- 
tain rose  for  another  thousand  feet,  inviting  a  climb  which 
might  be  dangerous,  for  it  swarms  with  snakes — black  snakes 
and  tiger  snakes — both  venomous,  and  the  latter  deadly.  In 
open  ground  nobody  minds  them,  for  they  are  easily  avoided 
or  killed  ;  but  no  one  walks  unnecessarily  through  long  grass 
or  bushes  in  their  peculiar  haunts. 

The  situation  is  so  beautiful  and  so  healthy  that  it  is  a  fav- 
ourite with  the  wealthy  Melbourne  gentlemen.  Seven  hun- 
dred feet  above  us  the  accomplished  Sir  George  Verdou,  long 
agent-general  for  Victoria  in  England,  and  remembered  and 
regretted  by  all  who  knew  him,  has  built  himself  a  most  hand- 
some mansion  surrounded  by  well-timbered  grounds  which  he 
has  enclosed  and  planted. 


140  Oceana. 

In  the  winter,  which  he  spends  in  Melbourne,  this  highland 
home  of  his  is  sometimes  swathed  in  snow.  In  summer  the 
heat  of  the  sun  is  tempered  by  the  fresh  keen  air  of  the 
mountain ;  and  were  it  only  a  little  easier  of  access,  Sir  George 
Verdon's  hermitage  would  be  a  place  to  be  envied. 

He  is  not  the  Governor's  only  or  nearest  neighbour.  A 
quarter  of  a  mile  from  Sir  Henry  Loch's  cottage,  and  on  the 
same  lower  level,  there  is  another  large  residence,  belonging 
to  a  Mr.  Eyan,  originally  from  Ireland  I  believe,  but  an  old 
settler  in  'Victoria  and  a  gentleman  of  very  large  fortune. 
Having  the  colonial  passion  for  gardening  and  means  for  in- 
dulging it,  Mr.  "Ryan  has  created  what  in  England  would  be  a 
show  place,  for  its  beauty  and  curiosity.  Tropical  plants  will 
not  of  course  grow  there,  but  all  else  seemed  to  grow  ;  there 
was  scarcely  a  rare  flower  belonging  to  the  temperate  regions 
of  any  part  of  the  world  of  which  he  had  not  a  specimen,  and 
his  fruit  garden  would  have  supplied  one  side  of  Covent  Gar- 
den. 

The  Governor  had  not  such  grounds  as  Sir  George  Verdon, 
nor  such  flower-beds  as  Mr.  Ryan,  but  what  he  had  would 
have  been  counted  beautiful  anywhere  else.  The  landscape 
surrounding  was  perfection  ;  and  in  this  delightful  situation 
and  in  the  doubly  delightful  society  of  the  Governor's  family, 
we  lingered  day  after  day.  He  himself  was  called  frequently 
to  Melbourne  on  business,  but  he  could  go  and  return  in  the 
same  day.  We  walked,  sketched,  lounged,  and  botanized, 
perhaps  best  employed  when  doing  nothing  except  wander- 
ing in  the  shade  of  the  wood.  One  night  upon  the  ten-ace  I 
can  never  forget.  The  moon  rose  with  unnatural  brightness 
over  the  shoulder  of  the  mountain  ;  the  gorges  below  were  in 
black  shadow  ;  the  foliage  of  the  gum-trees  shone  pale  as  if 
the  leaves  were  silver,  and  they  rustled  crisply  in  the  light 
night-breeze.  The  stillness  was  only  broken  by  the  far-off 
bark  of  some  wandering  dog  who  was  perhaps  on  the  scent  of 


St.  Huberts.  141 

an  opossum  ;  we  stood  ourselves  silent,  for  the  scene  was  ona 
of  those  which  one  rather  feels  than  wishes  to  speak  about. 
A  week  after,  when  we  were  far  away,  Mount  Macedon  was 
the  centre  of  a  bush  fire  ;  the  landscape  on  which  we  were 
gazing  was  wreathed  for  miles  and  miles  in  smoke  and  flame, 
and  the  forest  monarchs,  which  stood  so  serene  and  grand 
against  the  starry  sky,  were  charred  and  blackened  stumps. 

While  we  were  thus  resting  at  Mount  Macedon,  Mr.  Gillies 
had  arranged  another  expedition  for  us  to  see  a  vineyard  at  a 
place  called  St.  Hubert's,  where  the  only  entirely  successful 
attempt  to  grow  fine  Australian  wine  had  been  carried  out, 
after  many  difficulties,  by  a  Mr.  Castella,  a  Swiss  Catholic 
gentleman  from  Neufchatel.  The  visit  was  to  be  partly  on 
our  account,  that  we  might  see  what  Victorian  energy  could 
do  besides  raising  gold.  It  was  also  official,  for  Sir  Henry 
Loch  was  to  go  with  us  as  a  recognition  of  Mr.  Castelln's 
merits  to  the  colony.  Australian  wines  had  failed  hitherto, 
as  they  had  failed  at  the  Cape,  either  from  excess  of  sugar  in 
the  grapes,  or  from  an  earthy  flavour  contracted  from  the 
soil.  The  hock  which  we  had  tasted  at  Adelaide  had  been 
palatable  but  commonplace.  Only  experiments  protracted 
through  generations  can  determine  in  what  situations  wine 
deserving  the  name  can  be  produced.  The  flavour  of  a  grape 
tells  you  nothing  of  the  final  flavour  of  the  fermented  juices. 
The  same  vines  grown  in  two  adjoining  fields,  where  the  strat- 
ification or  the  aspect  is  different,  yield  completely  different 
results.  The  wine,  too,  must  be  kept  for  several  years  before 
the  flavour  into  which  it  will  ripen  is  defined.  The  best, 
therefore,  which  can  be  attained  in  a  new  country,  is  tentative 
and  imperfect. 

Mr.  Castella,  however,  had  received  honourable  recognition 
from  the  best  European  authorities  at  the  Sydney  Exhibition 
for  his  hocks  and  clarets.  The  Governor  was  to  go  over  his 
manufactory  and  congratulate  him  on  his  triumph. 


142  Occana. 

St.  Hubert's  was  fifty  miles  from  Melbourne,  in  the  valley 
of  the  Yarra.  The  blue  satin  railway  carriage  took  us  to  the 
nearest  station.  There  we  clambered  upon  an  old-fashioned 
four-horse  coach,  and  after  a  dusty  drive  of  eight  miles,  we 
reached  a  large  roomy,  straggling  house,  built  with  attempts 
at  ornamental  architecture,  high-gabled  roofs,  a  central  tower 
with  a  flying  outside  staircase  and  gallery,  the  inevitable  deep 
verandahs,  and,  as  Mr.  Castella's  guests  were  often  numerous, 
detached  rooms,  run  up  with  planks,  scattered  in  the  shrub- 
beries. The  Yarra  wound  invisibly  between  deep  banks  across 
the  plains  in  front  of  the  windows.  Behind  it,  far  off,  was  a 
high  range  of  mountains,  from  which  columns  of  smoke  were 
rising  in  half  a  dozen  directions,  from  forest  bush-fires  ;  either 
lighted  on  purpose  to  clear  the  ground,  or  the  careless  work  of 
wood-cutters  or  wandering  natives.  The  fields  immediately 
adjoining  were  the  most  brilliant  green.  The  vines  were  all 
in  full  leaf.  There  were  three  hundred  acres  of  them  stand- 
ing in  rows,  and  staked  like  raspberry  bushes,  each  bush 
powdered  with  sulphur,  and  smelling  strongly  of  it.  Our 
host  himself  was  a  vigorous,  hale-looking  man  of  sixty  or  up- 
wards, with  lively  French  features,  light  grey  merry  eyes, 
with  a  touch  of  melancholy  at  the  bottom  of  them — to  be 
recognised  at  once  as  an  original  person  well  worth  attention. 
He  was  an  artist,  I  found,  as  well  as  a  vine-grower.  His  rooms 
were  hung  with  clever  Australian  landscapes  in  oils,  his  own 
work  in  the  idle  season.  He  had  come  to  the  colony  thirty 
years  ago,  when  Australia  was  the  land  of  promise  to  so  many 
ardent  European  spirits  who  had  been  dispersed  by  the  col- 
lapse of  the  revolutions.  After  many  ups  and  downs  of  fort- 
une he  had  married  a  Sydney  lady,  very  handsome  still,  and 
moderately  rich.  She  would  have  been  very  rich,  I  believe, 
if  she  had  pleased  her  friends  better  in  the  choice  of  a  hus- 
band, but  she  showed  no  signs  of  being  discontented  with  her 
lot,  as,  indeed,  so  far  as  I  could  judge,  she  had  no  cause  to  be. 


Wine  •  Grow  ing,  1 43 

We  were  a  large  party,  and  the  extensive  house  was  full. 
Sir  George  Verclon  had  descended  from  his  eyrie  to  accom- 
pany us.  There  was  a  New  Zealand  member  of  council,  whose 
name  I  did  not  catch  ;  Mr.  Langton,  a  high  Victorian  official, 
steady,  calm,  and  sensible,  with  a  pretty  daughter ;  Mr.  Rowan, 
a  partner  in  Mr.  Castella's  firm,  a  tall,  athletic,  fresh-coloured, 
and  evidently  successful  gentleman,  who  told  us  that  he  was  a 
relation  of  the  not  yet  forgotten  Irish  conspirator,  Hamilton 
Eowan,  whose  life  Avas  saved  by  the  devotion  of  the  Dublin 
fishermen.  Besides  these,  there  were  several  others,  but  I 
had  no  opportunity  of  becoming  personally  acquainted  with 
them. 

We  were  walked  over  the  estate  under  our  umbrellas,  for 
the  sun  was  blazing  down  upon  us.  We  saw  the  vines  grow- 
ing, the  presses,  the  rows  of  hogsheads  in  the  cellars,  the  vats 
in  which  the  grapes  were  trodden.  I  learnt  here,  as  a  fact 
new  to  me,  that  if  fine  wine  is  wanted,  the  human  foot  is  still 
in  requisition.  Machinery  crushes  the  grape-stones  and  taints 
the  flavour.  We  had  to  taste  from  various  casks,  and  pro- 
fess to  appreciate  the  differences,  which  we  none  of  us  could ; 
for  the  palates  of  the  uninitiated  soon  lose  the  power  to  dis- 
criminate. Mr.  C.,  however,  offered  to  supply  us  with  what 
seemed  as  good  as  we  could  desire,  in  any  quantity,  at  twenty- 
five  shillings  a  dozen,  and  so  far  as  I  can  tell,  I  could  be  con- 
tented to  drink  nothing  better,  if  I  was  never  to  have  worse. 

The  worst  of  the  business  was  the  heat.  Evening  came, 
but  the  thermometer  did  not  fall.  The  air  was  still  and 
stifling,  with  a  smell  of  smoke  in  it.  The  temperature  was 
90°  in  the  verandah  at  eight  o'clock  when  we  went  in  to 
dinner. 

I  sat  next  to  our  host,  and  I  have  rarely  met  a  more  amus- 
ing companion.  He  had  been  in  the  French  army  under 
Louis  Philippe.  He  had  been  a  detective  officer,  and  knew 
for  one  thing  the  secret  circumstances  of  the  murder  of  the 


144:  Oceana. 

Duchesse  de  Praslin.  He  had  fought  in  the  streets  in  Feb- 
ruary, 1848.  He  had  served  after  that  revolution  in  Caussi- 
diere's  famous  police,  and  had  again  been  in  the  great  battles 
of  June  in  the  same  year.  I  myself  knew  something  of  that 
remarkable  time,  and  some  of  the  principal  actors.  It  was 
very  pleasant,  and  strange  too,  in  such  a  place  and  scene,  to 
hear  the  old  story  over  again  from  so  competent  an  authority. 

After  dinner  we  sat  out  on  the  lawn,  trying  in  vain  to  cool 
ourselves.  Some  of  us  adjourned  to  the  top  of  the  tower  to 
smoke  ;  where  we  heard  anecdotes  from  Mr.  Rowan  of  Smith 
O'Brien's  rebellion  ;  among  others,  that  five  hundred  Catholic 
Irish  had  been  kiUed  by  the  Orangemen  in  a  battle  in  Ulster. 
He  perhaps  meant  only  '  kilt.'  I  had  been  in  Ireland  myself 
all  that  summer  observing  what  was  going  on,  yet  had  never 
heard  of  such  a  battle.  The  events  which  occurred  must  have 
been  very  imperfectly  recorded.  Perhaps  the  newspapers 
were  in  a  conspiracy  to  suppress  untoward  incidents.  Finally 
we  went  off  to  bed,  I  to  a  comparatively  cool  outbuilding 
among  the  bushes,  where  I  was  not  without  uneasiness  about 
snakes.  There  were  no  snakes,  but  in  the  morning  I  found 
a  dead  Australian  wild  cat  lying  against  the  door,  which  had 
been  worried  in  the  night  by  the  dogs.  I  walked  out  before 
breakfast  among  the  fruit  trees.  Delicious  ripe  greengages 
hung  in  thousands  within  tempting  reach.  The  ground  un- 
derneath was  yellow  with  them,  left  to  rot  as  they  fell,  but 
the  boughs  were  bending  under  the  weight  of  those  which 
remained.  I  found  Sir  Henry  and  two  or  three  more  of  our 
friends  had  been  attracted  by  the  same  magnet.  We  were 
tempted  and  we  all  fell,  but  in  that  climate  Nemesis  is  merciful, 
and  does  not  exact  too  severe  a  penalty  for  light  indulgence. 

It  was  hotter  than  ever,  98°  now  in  the  shade,  but  our  day's 
work  had  been  laid  out  for  us.  Mr.  Gillies  was  a  man  of 
business,  and  was  not  to  be  denied.  We  were  to  be  shown 
the  giant  trees  at  Fernshaw,  the  largest  as  yet  known  to  ex- 


The  Trees  at  Fernshaw.  145 

1st  anywhere,  higher  by  a  hundred  feet  than  the  great  coni- 
fers in  the  Yosemite  valley.  They  were  twenty  miles  off,  in 
a  mountain  glen  near  the  rise  of  the  Yarra.  We  were  to  pic- 
nic among  them,  and  return  to  St.  Hubert's  the  same  evening. 
One  wished  to  be  forty  years  younger,  but  the  Colony  is  it- 
self young ;  age  and  its  infirmities  are  not  recognised,  and  at 
Rome  we  must  do  as  the  Romans. 

A. way  we  went,  squeezed  together  again  on  the  coach- 
top,  between  the  vine-rows  and  across  the  dusty  plains. 
Neighbours  who  had  been  forwarned  joined  our  procession 
on  ponies  or  in  carriages.  Matters  mended  a  little  when  we 
were  over  the  Yarra.  We  were  then  in  the  forest  at  the  foot 
of  the  hills.  There  was  at  least  shade,  the  road  winding  among 
the  valleys  and  slowly  ascending.  A  railway  from  Melbourne 
is  expected  in  these  parts  shortly,  when  the  mountains  will  be 
the  summer  haunt  of  lodgers  and  excursionists.  To  us  the 
solitude  was  broken  only  aL  a  single  interval,  when  the  coun- 
try opened,  and  there  was  a  scattered  hamlet.  There  we 
changed  horses,  and  again  plunged  into  the  woods,  the  ra- 
vines growing  wilder  and  wilder,  the  gum-trees  grander  and 
grander,  the  clean  straight  stems  rising  200  feet,  like  '  the  tall 
masts  of  some  great  Amiral,'  before  the  lowest  branch  struck 
out  from  them.  Unique  as  these  trees  are,  they  ought  to  be 
preserved  ;  but  the  soil  which  nourishes  them  is  tempting 
from  its  fertility,  and  they  are  being  rapidly  destroyed.  The 
Government  makes  laws  about  them,  but  in  a  democracy  peo- 
ple do  as  they  please.  Custom  and  inclination  rule,  and  laws 
arc  paper.  A  notch  is  cut  a  yard  above  the  ground,  the  bark 
is  stripped  off,  the  circulation  of  the  sap  is  arrested,  the  tree 
dies,  the  leaves  at  the  top  wither,  the  branches  stand  for  a  few 
years  bare  and  ghostlike,  and  then  it  rots  and  falls.  Some- 
times the  forest  is  wilfully  fired  ;  one  sees  hundreds  of  trunks, 
even  when  there  is  still  life  left,  scorched  and  blackened  on 

one  side. 

10 


146  Oceana. 

The  eucalyptus  is  a  fast  grower,  and  can  be  restored  here- 
after when  the  loss  of  foliage  begins,  as  it  will,  to  affect  the 
climate  ;  but  the  blackwood  trees  and  acacias,  which,  though 
dwarfed  by  their  immense  neighbours,  grow  to  what  elsewhere 
would  be  a  respectable  size,  mature  only  in  centuries.  The 
wood  is  valuable,  and  is  everywhere  being  cut  and  carried  off. 
The  genius  of  destruction  is  in  the  air.  In  the  Fernshaw 
Mountains,  however,  no  great  impression  has  been  made  as 
yet.  One  drives  as  through  the  aisles  of  an  immeasurable  ca- 
thedral, the  boughs  joining  overhead  to  form  the  roof,  sup- 
ported on  the  gray  columns  which  rise  one  behind  the  other 
Jill  around.  There  is  no  undergrowth  save  tree-ferns,  fine  in 
their  way,  for  some  of  them  were  thirty  feet  high,  but  looking 
like  mere  green  mushrooms  among  the  giant  stems.  We 
passed  a  pretty-looking  mountain  valley  farm  or  two.  One 
of  them  in  a  sheltered  hollo w  had  a  garden  stocked  with 
raspberries,  so  productive  that  the  owner  made  last  year  450/. 
by  them  in  the  Melbourne  market.  At  length  we  reached  the 
bottom  of  the  last  hill,  where  stood  a  picturesque  hotel,  the 
Yarra  running  at  the  back  of  it,  reduced  in  volume  but  im- 
proved in  colour — a  clear  pebbly  stream,  with  blackfish,  trout, 
and  eels  in  it.  Here  were  lodgings  for  romantic  tourists. 
Here  were  visitors'  books  with  doggerel  verses  of  the  usual 
kind.  E and  I  were  asked  for  our  autographs,  the  mis- 
tress flattering  us  into  consent  by  saying  that  they  did  not 
want  common  names.  The  hotel  itself  seemed  nicely  kept, 
the  rooms  clean,  the  gardens  well  attended  to,  the  credit  be- 
ing due  more,  I  think,  to  the  lady  of  the  house  than  to  the 
master,  who  looked  as  if  he  preferred  enjoying  himself  to 
work  of  any  kind.  Here,  too,  for  the  first  time,  we  saw  a 
lyre-bird  which  someone  had  just  shot,  the  body  being  like  a 
coot's  and  about  the  same  size,  the  tail  long  as  the  tail  of  a 
bird  of  paradise,  beautifully  marked  in  bright  brown,  with 
the  two  chief  feathers  curved  into  the  shape  of  a  Greek  lyre, 


A  Picnic  in  the  Forest.  147 

from  which  it  takes  its  name.  Of  other  birds  we  saw  none, 
not  a  jackass,  to  my  sorrow,  not  even  a  magpie  or  a  parrot. 
Two  young  ladies,  however,  joined  us — from  Galway  ;  both 
pretty,  one  quiet,  the  other  of  the  Baby  Blake  type,  who 
amused  herself,  and  perhaps  him,  by  flicking  one  of  the  aide- 
de-camps  with  a  riding  whip. 

The  hill  was  steep.  We  walked  up,  skirting  the  ravine 
where  the  objects  were  growing  which  we  had  come  in  search 
of,  their  roots  far  down  ia  the  hollow,  their  heads  towering 
up  as  far  above  our  heads.  Three  hundred  and  fifty  to  four 
hundred  feet  is  their  average  height,  and  one  was  measured 
which  reached  four  hundred  and  sixty.  In  the  position  in 
which  they  stand  they  are  sheltered  from  all  possible  winds. 
To  this  and  to  the  soil  they  owe  their  enormous  development. 
I  myself  measured  rudely  the  girth  of  one  which  stood  near 
the  road  ;  at  the  height  of  my  own  shoulder  it  was  forty-five 
feet  round.  We  had  left  the  Yarra  and  were  ascending  a 
tributary  brook,  which  was  falling  in  tiny  cascades  below. 
The  carriage  with  the  hampers  followed  slowly  ;  at  length 
we  all  stopped  at  a  convenient  place  for  the  further  cere- 
monies— a  sheltered  slope  by  the  side  of  the  stream,  which 
was  rushing  along  amidst  ferns  and  rocks,  crags  hanging  over 
us  and  the  great  trees  hanging  over  the  crags.  The  young 
ladies  made  themselves  conspicuous  by  posing  in  picturesque 
attitudes  on  a  point  above  a  waterfall  ;  the  young  gentlemen 
by  springing  to  rescue  them  from  imaginary  perils.  The 
baskets  were  unpacked,  and  we  settled  to  our  luncheon  as 
chance  and  convenience  of  seats  disposed  us.  Three  sorts  of 
wine  from  Mr.  Castella's  cellars  were  cooled  in  the  sparkling 
pools,  and  in  such  an  environment,  and  after  such  a  drive, 
were  voted  universally  to  deserve  the  best  that  had  been  said 
of  them.  Venomous  beasts  there  were  none,  but  venomous 
insects  in  plenty  ;  flies  with  bites  as  poisonous  as  a  '  Satur- 
day Reviewer's  '  pen,  sand-ticks  which  had  an  eye  for  the  bare 


148  Oceana. 

leg  above  the  stocking  and  were  expert  in  reaching  it ;  othei 
creatures  which  could  make  themselves  disagreeable  after 
their  kind,  which  I  had  never  heard  of  and  now  forget ;  but 
we  were  all  happy  and  in  the  best  of  spirits,  and  vermin  of  all 
kinds  in  this  world  prefer  the  sick  in  mind  and  body  and 
leave  the  healthy  alone.  We  did  very  well ;  Mr.  Gillies  al- 
lowed us  half-an-hour  for  our  cigars  ;  we  were  then  packed 
iipon  our  coach  again,  and  were  carried  back  as  we  had  come. 
I  was  glad  to  have  visited  the  place.  It  was  something  to 
have  seen  the  biggest  trees  in  the  world,  and  to  be  able,  in 
California,  to  affect  disdain  of  the  Yosemite,  and,  among  tree- 
ferns,  and  lyre-birds,  and  eucalyptus,  to  be  able  to  feel  that 
we  were  in  no  strange  land,  among  strange  ways  and  strange 
faces.  It  was  the  old  country  stih1,  with  its  old  habits  and  old 
forms  of  enjoyment. 

On  the  way  home  we  turned  aside  to  see  a  native  settlement 
— a  native  school,  &c. — very  hopeless,  but  the  best  that  could 
be  done  for  a  dying  race.  The  poor  creatures  were  clothed, 
but  not  in  their  right  minds,  if  minds  they  had  ever  possessed. 
The  faces  of  the  children  were  hardly  superior  to  those  of  apes, 
and  showed  less  life  and  vigour.  The  men  threw  boomerangs 
and  lances  for  us,  but  could  not  do  it  well.  The  manliness  of 
the  wild  state  had  gone  out  of  them,  and  nothing  had  come 
in  its  place  or  could  come.  One  old  fellow  had  been  a  chief 
in  the  district  when  Mr.  Castella  first  came  to  settle  there.  It 
was  pathetic  to  see  the  affection  which  they  still  felt  for  each 
other  in  their  changed  relations. 

Another  pleasant  evening  followed  at  the  vineyard,  a  sound 
sleep,  and  I  suppose,  more  greengages  in  the  morning.  Then, 
after  breakfast,  the  visit  to  St.  Hubert's  was  over.  The  mem- 
ory of  the  place,  its  master  and  his  family,  and  the  party  as- 
sembled there,  are  a  bright  spot  in  the  recollection  of  my 
travels.  I  liked  Mr.  Castella  well,  and  was  sorry  to  reflect 
that  I  should  never  see  him  more. 


Great  Forest  Fire.  149 

The  heat  was  still  extreme.  The  air  glowed  as  over  a  fur- 
nace. There  was  not  breeze  enough  to  move  a  thistle-down, 
and  the  sun  shone  copper-coloured  through  the  brown  haze. 
In  the  train  on  the  way  to  Melbourne,  we  observed  an  unu- 
sual look  in  the  sky  ;  a  cloud  hung  over  the  horizon  of  a  dirty 
white  colour,  more  like  wood  smoke  than  natural  mist,  and 
becoming  more  and  more  like  smoke  as  we  came  nearer  to  it. 
It  was  in  the  direction  of  Mount  Macedon,  and  seemed  to  ex- 
tend over  the  whole  range  of  hills  of  which  Mount  Macedon 
was  the  centre.  At  length  it  became  obvious  that  many  miles 
of  forest  in  that  quarter,  and  apparently  at  that  particular 
spot  must  be  in  flames.  Sir  Henry  was  painfully  anxious. 
An  aide-de-camp  waiting  at  the  Melbourne  station  informed 
us  that  our  fears  were  well-founded.  The  whole  district  was 
burning.  The  Governor's  cottage  and  Sir  George  Verdon's 
house  were  safe  so  far  ;  but  fires  of  this  kind,  and  in  such 
weather,  spread  with  extreme  rapidity.  Lady  Loch  with  the 
children  were  still  on  the  spot.  Sir  Henry  flew  on  with  a 
special  engine.  The  danger  on  these  occasions  is  always 
great  and  may  be  terrible.  He  would  have  had  us  go  with 
him ;  but  we  feared  that  we  could '  be  of  little  service — we 
knew  that  we  should  be  assuredly  in  the  way,  and  we  decided 
to  remain  ourselves  at  a  club  in  the  city,  of  which  we  had 
been  made  honorary  members. 


150  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  X. 

Colonial  clubs — Melbourne — Political  talk — Anxieties  about  England — 
Federation — Carlyle's  opinions — Democracy  and  national  character — 
Melbourne  society — General  aspects — Probable  future  of  the  Colony. 

CLUBS  in  the  Colonies  answer  the  double  purpose  of  the  club 
proper  and  the  private  hotel,  where  members,  and  strangers 
for  whom  a  member  will  become  responsible,  can  not  only 
have  the  use  of  the  public  rooms,  but  can  reside  altogether. 
The  arrangement  is  convenient  for  the  members  themselves, 
many  of  whom  live  at  a  distance,  and  come  occasionally  to 
the  city  on  business.  It  is  particularly  agreeable  to  visitors, 
who,  if  the  club  is  a  good  one,  are  introduced  at  once  to  the 
best  society  in  the  place.  We  had  already  many  friends 
there.  At  the  Melbourne  Club  we  made  many  more,  and  as 
we  were  soon  relieved  of  our  anxiety  about  Mount  Macedon 
and  its  occupants,  our  time  was  usefully  spent  there.  The 
fire  had  been  most  destructive.  The  excessive  heat  and  the 
long  drought  had  brought  the  undergrowth  into  the  condition 
of  tinder.  The  flames  had  spread  as  if  the  woods  had  been 
sprinkled  with  petroleum.  Eight  miles  of  forest,  which  we 
had  left  a  week  before  in  its  summer  beauty,  were  now  a 
blackened  waste.  The  mountains  behind  the  cottage  had 
been  as  a  cone  of  dry  fuel,  and  had  been  in  a  blaze  to  the 
very  summit.  Sir  George  Verdou's  place  had  been  saved  by 
his  own  forethought ;  a  large  area  had  been  cleared  of  bush 
between  the  house  and  the  rest  of  the  mountains,  which  the 
fire  had  been  unable  to  cross.  It  had  descended  to  within 
fifty  yards  of  the  cottage.  It  had  then  stopped — partly  from 


The  Melbourne  Club.  151 

exhaustion,  partly  through  the  energy  of  the  neighbours  who 
had  exerted  themselves  manfully  and  loyally.  The  danger 
was  over  ;  the  scene  of  ruin,  with  the  flames  still  bursting  out 
in  distant  parts  of  the  woods,  was  so  remarkable  that  Sir 

Henry  sent  again,  to  beg  us  to  go  up  and  witness  it.     E 

went ;  I  preferred  to  retain  unspoiled  the  image  of  that  moon- 
light night,  and  remained  where  I  was.  The  outburstiug  of 
the  fierce  irrational  forces  of  nature  has  to  me  something 
painful  and  horrible,  as  if  we  lived  surrounded  by  caged  wild 
beasts,  who  might  at  any  moment  break  their  bars  and  tear 
us  to  pieces.  Such  indeed  our  condition  is  in  this  world,  and 
it  is  well  for  us  when  only  forests  are  set  blazing,  and  not  the 
distracted  heads  of  human  beings,  like  those  French  commu- 
nists of  whom  I  had  been  talking  with  my  host  at  St.  Hubert's. 
But  if  we  cannot  escape  such  things,  I  have  no  curiosity  to  be 
a  spectator  of  them. 

With  the  gentlemen  whom  I  met  at  the  Club  I  had  much 
interesting  talk  about  colonial  politics — federation,  the  rela- 
tion of  the  colonies  with  the  empire,  &c.,  the  results  of  which 
I  shall  sum  up  further  on.  There  was  anxiety  about  England 
too.  When  English  interests  were  in  peril,  I  found  the  Aus- 
tralians, not  cool  and  indifferent,  but  ipsis  Anglicis  Angliciores, 
as  if  at  the  circumference  the  patriotic  spirit  was  more  alive 
than  at  the  centre.  There  was  a  general  sense  that  our  affairs 
were  being  strangely  mismanaged.  The  relations  of  large 
objects  to  one  another  can  be  observed  better  at  a  distance 
than  close  at  hand,  when  we  see  nothing  clearly  except  what 
is  immediately  next  to  us.  Now  Guinea  was  half-forgotten 
in  our  adventures  in  Egypt,  and  men  asked  me,  and  asked 
themselves,  what,  in  the  name  of  wonder,  we  were  about.  It 
began  to  be  perceived,  too,  that  the  disease  was  in  the  consti- 
tution. The  fault  was  not  in  individual  ministers,  but  in 
the  parliamentary  system,  which  placed  the  ministers  at  the 
mercy  of  any  accidental  vote  in  the  House  of  Commons,  laid 


152  Ocean  a. 

them  open  to  be  persecuted  by  questions,  harassed  by  inde- 
pendent resolutions  of  irresponsible  members,  and  thus  in- 
capacitated them  from  following  any  rational  policy,  and 
drove  them  from  insanity  to  insanity.  There  lay  the  secret 
of  the  mischief.  The  remedy  it  was  less  easy  to  suggest ;  but 
it  was  felt  even  there  that  a  remedy  of  some  kind  would  have 
to  be  found,  if  the  empire  was  not  to  drift  upon  the  rocks. 
One  individual,  indeed,  did  fall  in  for  an  exceptional  share  of 
blame.  The  second  morning  of  our  stay  at  the  Club  came 
the  news  of  the  fall  of  Khartoum  and  Gordon's  death. 

Upon  the  king — all  falls  upon  the  king. 

With  singular  unanimity  the  colonists  laid  the  guilt  of  this 
particular  catastrophe  at  the  door  of  the  Liberal  leader. 
They  did  not  love  him  before,  and  had  been  at  a  loss  to 
understand  the  influence  which  he  had  so  long  exercised. 
His  mighty  popularity  they  thought  must  now  at  least  be  at 
an  end.  It  could  not  survive  a  wound  so  deadly  in  his 
country's  reputation.  They  were  deceived,  it  seems,  yet  per- 
haps they  were  only  forming  an  opinion  prematurely,  which 
hereafter  will  be  the  verdict  of  mankind.  He,  after  all,  is 
personally  responsible,  more  than  any  other  single  man,  for 
the  helpless  condition  into  which  the  executive  administration 
of  the  English  Empire  seems  to  have  fallen. 

It  was  suspected  by  those  whose  distrust  of  this  famous 
statesman  was  the  deepest  that  he  might  argue  that  now 
Gordon  was  dead  the  object  of  the  campaign  was  over,  and 
that  orders  might  be  sent  to  evacuate  the  Soudan.  But  the 
enthusiastic  Victorians  could  not  believe  this  even  of  him. 
A  disgrace  so  flagrant  was  incredible.  One  gentleman  sug- 
gested that  Lord  Wolseley  would  refuse  to  obey — as  if  we 
were  arriving  at  a  new  passing  of  the  Rubicon,  and  a  new 
Caesar ;  as  if  parliamentary  government  was  a  detested  idol, 
which  was  cast  out  of  its  shrine,  and  worshipped  no  more; 


The  Economists'  England.  153 

as  if  the  tide  of  the  sacred  river,  long  running  in  the  direc- 
tion of  anarchy,  had  passed  its  flood,  and  was  now  turning 
once  more.  There  was  no  doubt  that  things  were  amiss  in 
England  somewhere,  and  I  told  them  how  Carlyle  had  thought 
about  it  all.  In  Carlyle's  opinion  the  English  nation  was  en- 
chanted just  now — under  a  spell  which  for  the  last  fifty  years 
had  bewitched  us.  According  to  him  England's  business,  if 
she  understood  it,  was  to  gather  her  colonies  close  to  her, 
and  spread  her  people  where  they  could  breathe  again,  and 
send  the  stream  of  life  back  into  her  loaded  veins.  Instead 
of  doing  this,  she  had  been  feeding  herself  on  cant  and  fine 
phrases,  and  delusive  promises  of  unexampled  prosperity. 
The  prosperity,  if  it  came — which  it  wouldn't,  and  wouldn't 
stay  if  it  did — meant  only  that  our  country  was  to  be  the 
world's  gi-eat  workhouse,  our  green  fields  soiled  with  soot 
from  steam-engines — the  fair  old  England,  the  '  gem  set  in 
the  silver  sea,'  was  to  be  overrun  with  mushroom  factory 
towns,  our  flowery  lanes  turned  into  brick  lanes,  our  church 
spires  into  smoky  chimneys.  We  were  to  be  a  nation  of 
slaves — slaves  of  all  the  world,  slaves  to  mechanical  drudgery 
and  cozening  trade,  and  deluded  into  a  dream  that  all  this 
was  the  glory  of  freedom  while  we  were  worse  off  than  the 
blacks  of  Louisiana.  It  was  another  England  that  Carlyle 
looked  forward  to — an  England  with  the  soul  in  her  awake 
once  more — no  longer  a  small  island,  but  an  ocean  empire, 
where  her  millions  and  tens  of  millions  would  be  spread  over 
their  broad  inheritance,  each  leading  wholesome  and  happy 
lives  on  their  own  fields,  and  by  their  own  firesides,  hardened 
into  men  by  the  sun  of  Australia  or  the  frosts  of  Canada — 
free  human  beings  in  fact,  and  not  in  idle  name,  not  miser- 
able bondsmen  any  more.  All  this  was  well  received,  though, 
of  course,  translated  into  the  practical,  with  the  metaphorical 
parts  of  it  toned  down.  The  Victorians  were  willing  to  provide 
for  as  many  of  our  people  as  would  come  over  to  them  in  the 


154  Oceana. 

ordinary  way,  but  they  did  not  want  an  inundation  of  pau- 
pers. England's  manufacturing  industries  were  the  great 
sources  of  her  present  strength  and  wealth.  England  could 
not  cease  to  be  a  manufacturing  country.  England  had  coal 
and  iron,  and  must  make  calicoes  and  ironwork.  They  had 
land  and  gold,  and  would  buy  them  of  us.  The  colonies 
were  the  mother  country's  best  customers,  and  bought  five 
times  more  of  our  goods,  in  proportion  to  their  population, 
than  any  other  people  bought,  &c. 

Very  good  doctrine  as  far  as  it  went,  but  the  great  question 
of  all  seemed  to  be  no  more  thought  of  in  Australia  than  at 
home.  They  and  we  talk  of  our  '  greatness.'  Do  we  clearly 
know  in  what  a  nation's  greatness  consists  ?  Whether  it  be 
great  or  little  depends  entirely  on  the  sort  of  men  and  women 
that  it  is  producing.  A  sound  nation  is  a  nation  that  is  com- 
posed of  sound  human  beings,  healthy  in  body,  strong  of 
limb,  true  in  word  and  deed — brave,  sober,  temperate,  chaste, 
to  whom  morals  are  of  more  importance  than  wealth  or 
knowledge — where  duty  is  first  and  the  rights  of  man  are 
second — where,  in  short,  men  grow  up  and  live  and  work, 
having  in  them  what  our  ancestors  called  the  '  fear  of  God.' 
It  is  to  form  a  character  of  this  kind  that  human  beings  are 
sent  into  this  world,  and  those  nations  who  succeed  in  doing 
it  are  those  who  have  made  their  mark  in  history.  They  are 
Nature's  real  freemen,  and  give  to  man's  existence  on  this 
planet  its  real  interest  and  value.  Therefore  all  wise  states- 
men look  first,  in  the  ordering  of  their  national  affairs,  to  the 
effect  which  is  being  produced  on  character  ;  and  institutions, 
callings,  occupations,  habits,  and  methods  of  life  are  meas- 
ured and  estimated  first,  and  beyond  every  other  considera- 
tion, by  this  test.  The  commonwealth  is  the  common  health, 
the  common  wellness.  No  nation  can  prosper  long  which 
attaches  to  its  wealth  any  other  meaning ;  yet,  as  Aristotle 
observed  long  ago,  in  democracies  this  is  always  forgotten. 


Democracy  and  Character.  1.15 

They  do  not  deny  if,  in  words,  but  they  assume  that,  political 
liberty  once  secured,  all  else  that  is  good  will  follow  of  itself. 
Virtue  is  a  matter  of  course.  Make  men  politically  equal 
and  they  cannot  fail  to  be  virtuous.  Of  virtue  OTTOO-OV  ow  will 
do.  So  Aristotle  observed  it  was  in  the  Greek  democracies, 
and  this  was  the  reason  why  they  were  always  short  lived. 
Virtue  is  obligation  ;  obligation  is  binding  ;  and  men  who 
choose  to  be  free  in  the  modern  sense  do  not  like  to  be 
bound.  They  are  emancipated  from  human  authority.  They 
<lo  not  reimpose  the  chains  upon  their  own  limbs.  Each  of 
them  thenceforth  attends  to  his  own  interests.  That  is,  he 
gets  as  much  money  as  he  can  and  as  much  pleasure  as  the 
money  will  buy  for  him  ;  and  when  he  has  lost  the  habits 
which  he  has  inherited  from  an  older  and  severer  training 
and  is  brought  to  the  moral  level  which  corresponds  to  his 
new  state  of  liberty,  the  soul  dies  out  of  him  ;  he  forgets  that 
he  ever  had  a  soul. 

Hitherto  this  has  been  the  history  of  every  democratic 
experiment  in  this  world.  Democracies  are  the  blossoming 
of  the  aloe,  the  sudden  squandering  of  the  vital  force  which 
has  accumulated  in  the  long  years  when  it  was  contented 
to  be  healthy  and  did  not  aspire  after  a  vain  display.  The 
aloe  is  glorious  for  a  single  season.  It  progresses  as  it  never 
progressed  before.  It  admires  its  own  excellence,  looks  back 
with  pity  on  its  earlier  and  humbler  condition,  which  it  at- 
tributes only  to  the  unjust  restraints  in  which  it  was  held. 
It  conceives  that  it  has  discovered  the  true  secret  of  being 
'  beautiful  forever/  and  in  the  midst  of  the  discovery  it  dies. 

But  enough  of  this.  The  principal  men  in  Melbourne  are 
of  exceptional  quality.  They  are  the  survivors  of  the  gener- 
ation of  adventurers  who  went  out  thither  forty  years  ago,  on 
the  first  discovery  of  the  gold  fields — those  who  succeeded 
and  made  their  fortunes  while  others  failed.  They  are  thus 
a  picked  class,  the  seeming  fittest,  who  had  the  greatest  force, 


156  Oceana. 

the  greatest  keenness,  the  greatest  perseverance.  These  are 
not  the  highest  qualities  of  all,  but  they  are  sufficient  to  give 
the  possessors  of  them  a  superiority  in  the  race,  and  to  make 
them  interesting  people  to  meet  and  talk  to.  Having  large 
properties,  and  therefore  much  to  lose,  they  are  conservative 
in  politics.  Indeed,  of  native,  aggressive  radicalism  there  is 
very  little  in  Victoria.  There  is  no  need  of  it  where  everyone 
has  enough  to  live  on.  I  lunched  on  Sunday  at  the  house  of 
one  of  these  great  millionaires  in  a  fashionable  suburb. 
House,  entertainment,  servants,  &c.,  were  all  on  the  superb 
scale,  just  like  what  one  would  find  in  London  or  New  York. 
Mr.  Langton,  who  had  been  with  us  at  St.  Hubert's,  lived  in 
the  same  neighbourhood.  We  spent  an  evening  afterwards 
with  him  and  a  party  of  literary  friends,  exchanging  splen- 
dour for  simplicity,  and  the  shrewd  talk  of  a  prosperous  man 
of  the  world  for  aesthetic  and  intellectual  conversation.  Both 
were  well  enough  in  their  way,  though  the  last  was  most  to  my 
taste,  Mr.  Langton  himself  being  a  very  superior  man.  But 
again,  I  felt  how  entirely  English  it  all  was.  There  is  not  in 
Melbourne,  there  is  not  anywhere  in  Australia,  the  slightest 
symptom  of  a  separate  provincial  originality  either  fanned  or 
forming.  In  thought  and  manners,  as  in  speech  and  pro- 
nunciation, they  are  pure  English  and  nothing  else.  There 
is  more  provincialism  far  in  Exeter  or  York  than  in  Mel- 
bourne or  Sydney.  We  went  home  to  our  club  in  the  even- 
ing by  a  crowded  omnibus,  and  could  have  believed  ourselves 
back  in  Piccadilly,  the  dress,  look,  and  movements  of  the 
other  occupants  being  so  exactly  the  same. 

We  had  now  been  a  month  in  Victoria — a  month  into 
which  had  been  crowded  the  experience  of  an  ordinary  year. 
I  was  now  to  go  on  to  Sydney.  We  had  been  treated  with 
old-fashioned  English  hospitality  at  Melbourne,  and  when 
the  mayor  invited  us  to  a  farewell  entertainment  at  the  town- 
hall,  I  was  able  to  make  some  acknowledgment  of  the  kind- 


Victoria  and  its  Prospects.  157 

ness  to  us  of  Governor,  ministers,  and  people.  So  handsome 
they  had  all  been,  that  I  said  I  fancied  that  at  bottom  I  must 
be  a  person  of  some  importance,  and  that  when  I  was  in 
London  again  I  should  be  like  Cinderella  going  home  from 
the  ball.  If  the  account  which  I  am  able  to  give  of  them  all 
should  further,  even  in  an  infinitesimal  degree,  a  clearer  un- 
derstanding in  my  own  country  of  what  they  are  and  what 
they  are  doing,  I  shall  be  content  for  myself  to  sweep  the 
ashes  again,  and  I  will  ask  no  fairy  godmother  for  any 
further  present.  The  speaking  on  their  part  was  warm  and 
manly.  The  impression  which  then,  and  throughout,  I 
formed  of  Victoria  and  the  Victorians,  I  will  shortly  sum  up 
before  taking  my  final  leave  of  them. 

The  Colony,  and  Melbourne  as  its  capital,  have  evidently 
a  brilliant  future  before  them.  They  cannot  miss  it.  The 
resources  of  the  country — pastoral,  agricultural,  and  mineral 
— are  practically  unbounded.  The  people,  so  clever  and 
energetic,  will  not  fail  to  develop  them  ;  and  if  the  Premier 
was  oversanguine  (as  I  think  he  was)  in  believing  that  Aus- 
tralia would  grow  as  rapidly  as  America  has  grown,  and 
would  grow  to  equal  dimensions,  there  is  no  doubt  at  all  that, 
if  they  have  no  misadventure  and  are  not  interfered  with 
from  outside,  in  fifty  years  there  will  be  an  Australian  nation, 
of  which  the  Victorian  will  be  a  leading  branch,  able  to  hold 
its  own  and  to  take  its  place  among  the  leading  powers  of 
the  world.  The  political  condition  is  not,  I  think,  entirely 
satisfactory.  In  Victoria  there  are  no  privileged  classes,  no 
inherited  institutions  Avhich  require  to  be  modified  to  suit  the 
change  of  times.  Where  all  are,  or  may  be,  comfortably  off, 
there  is  no  dissatisfaction  with  the  distribution  of  property, 
and,  therefore,  there  is  no  natural  division  of  parties,  which 
constitutes  the  principle  of  parliamentary  government.  Par- 
ties in  the  colonies  are  artificial,  and  therefore  unnatural  and 
demoralising:.  It  would  be  far  better  if  the  heads  of  the  de- 


158  Occana. 

partments  could  be  selected  with  reference  simply  to  ability 
and  character,  and  were  relieved,  as  they  are  in  the  United 
States,  from  responsibility  to  the  legislature.  Politics  in 
democracies  tend  always  to  intrigue  or  faction,  but  the  peril  is 
intensified  where  there  is  unreality  in  the  very  form  of  the 
constitution.  The  good  sense  of  the  colonists  has  pi-evented 
so  far  any  serious  harm.  But  they  have  passed  through  one 
dangerous  crisis  ;  at  any  moment  they  may  fall  into  another  ; 
and  parliamentary  government,  it  is  likely,  will  prove  but  a 
temporary  expedient  adopted  in 'imitation  of  English  institu- 
tions, but  incapable  of  permanence. 

Almost  every  leading  man  is  professedly  loyal  to  the  con- 
nection with  England,  and  the  people  generally,  I  think,  are 
really  and  at  heart  loyal.  Any  speaker  who  advocated  sep- 
aration at  a  public  meeting  would-be  hooted  down.  But  they 
are  impulsive,  susceptible,  easily  offended,  and  the  language 
which  I  heard  and  read  during  the  New  Guinea  excitement 
made  me  fear  that  if  our  relations  are  left  as  undefined  as 
they  are,  and  separation  is  allowed  to  be  spoken  of  as  a  policy 
which  may  be  legitimately  entertained,  they  may  be  capable 
some  day  or  other  of  rash  acts  which  may  be  irreparable. 
One  thing  is  certain — Victoria  will  not  part  with  the  liberties 
which  it  now  possesses.  It  is  not  represented  in  the  English 
Parliament,  and  will  never,  therefore,  directly  or  indirectly, 
return  under  the  authority  of  the  English  Parliament.  But 
they  acknowledge  a  duty  to  the  mother  country  as  they  un- 
derstand it.  It  used  to  be  pretended  that  if  England  fell 
into  a  war  which  might  threaten  the  Colonial  port  towns, 
they  would  decline  to  share  its  burdens  or  its  dangers.  This 
will  never  be.  The  Colonies  will  not  desert  us  in  time  of 
trial,  and  if  they  leave  us  it  will  be  for  other  reasons.  They 
will  never  leave  us  at  all,  I  think,  if  they  are  treated  respect- 
fully and  considerately  ;  but  they  complain  that  the  Downing 
Street  dispatches  are  flavoured  still  with  the  old  indifference, 


Victoria  and  its  Prospects.  159 

and  are  haughty  and  ungracious.  The  broad  evidence  which 
they  have  lately  given  of  their  true  disposition  will  for  the 
future,  perhaps,  improve  the  tone.  The  English  people  must 
see  to  it  if  they  desire  a  federal  empire  ;  our  rulers  will  obey 
their  masters. 

Society  in  Melbourne  is  like  society  in  Birmingham  or 
Liverpool.  There  is  no  aristocracy,  and  there  are  not  the 
manners  of  an  idle  class.  The  '  upper  classes '  are  the  success- 
ful men  of  business  and  practical  intelligence,  who  make  large 
fortunes  and  spend  them  handsomely.  There  is  no  extrava- 
gance that  I  saw.  In  some  things  the  tone  is  rather  Puritani- 
cal ;  as,  for  instance,  cabs  and  carriages  are  made  to  walk  in 
passing  a  church  on  Sundays  during  service  time.  They 
allow  no  rude  or  inconsiderate  forgetfuluess  of  public  conven- 
ience. Carriages,  carts,  vehicles  of  all  kinds  have  to  }valk  at 
crowded  crossing-places.  If  the  Melbourne  buildings  are 
heterogeneous,  you  see  something  to  admire  in  the  manage- 
ment of  the  traffic.  There  is  an  idle  set  at  the  lower  end  of 
the  scale :  noisy,  riotous  scamps,  who  are  impertinent  to 
peaceful  passengers,  and  make  rows  at  theatres,  a  coarse-type 
version  of  the  old  Mohawks — -they  call  them  Larrikins.  The 
young  men  who  are  to  inherit  fortunes  are  said  also  to  leave 
something  to  be  desired.  To  be  brought  up  with  nothing  to 
do,  with  means  of  enjoying  every  form  of  pleasure  without 
the  trouble  of  working  for  it,  with  a  high  station  so  far  as 
wealth  can  confer  a  high  station,  and  to  have  no  duties  at- 
tached to  it,  is  not  a  promising  equipment ;  but  so  long  as  a 
young  man's  first  duty  is  considered  to  be  the  making  money, 
and  the  money  is  already  made,  what  can  be  expected  ?  It  is 
the  same  everywhere  at  present  among  nations  called  civilised, 
and  is  one  of  the  ugliest  aspects  of  our  condition.  But  the 
Victorian  youth  have  the  old  energy.  They  are  fine  shots, 
bold  fearless  riders  ;  in  yachting,  rowing,  cricket-playing, 
athletics  of  all  kinds,  they  have  the  national  capacity  and  are 


160  Oceana. 

as  good  as  we  are.  There  is  an  exuberance  of  force,  and  in  a 
federated  Oceana  higher  occupation  would  be  found  for  them 
in  the  army  and  navy  and  the  public  service. 

On  the  whole,  considering  that  they  have  been  nursed  in 
sunshine,  and  have  never  known  adversity,  the  merit  of  the 
Victorian  colonists  is  very  great.  They  have  worked  miracles 
in  clearing  and  cultivating  their  land.  In  forty  years — they 
take  their  name  from  the  Queen  and  are  only  coeval  with  her 
reign — they  have  done  the  work  of  centuries.  They  are 
proud  of  themselves,  and  perhaps  assert  their  consequence 
too  loudly  ;  but  their  country  speaks  for  them,  and  they  have 
fair  ground  for  elation.  In  one  point  they  differ  from  us — I 
know  not  whether  to  their  advantage.  Froissart  says  of  the 
English,  that  they  take  their  pleasures  sadly.  A  '  sad  wise 
man '  was  an  old  English  phrase.  With  so  fair  a  climate  and 
with  life  so  easy  the  Victorians  cannot  be  sad,  and  it  is  pleas- 
ant to  see  a  people  who  know  so  well  how  to  enjoy  them- 
selves. But  men  and  nations  require  in  reserve  a  certain 
sternness,  and  if  anything  truly  great  is  ever  to  come  out  of 
them  this  lesson  will  in  time  be  hammered  into  them.  For 
the  present  they  are  well  off  and  ought  to  be  thankful.  They 
complain  of  want  of  sympathy  ;  I  should  say  that  no  subjects 
of  Her  Majesty  just  now  are  less  in  need  of  it.  Praise  and 
appreciation  are  their  fair  due,  and  we  will  not  quarrel  with 
them  if  they  insist  on  being  respected  as  they  deserve. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

The  train  to  Sydney — Aspect  of  the  country — Sir  Henry  Parkes — The 
Australian  Club — The  public  gardens — The  Soudan  contingent — 
Feeling  of  the  colony  about  it — An  Opposition  minority — Mr.  Dalley 
— Introduction  to  him — Day  on  Sydney  Harbour — The  flag  ship — 
Sir  James  Martin — Admiral  Tryon — The  colonial  navy — Sir  Alfred 
Stephen — Sunday  at  Sydney — Growth  of  the  town — Excursions  in  the 
neighbourhood — Paramatta  river — Temperament  of  the  Australians. 

TRAVELLING  in  Australia  was  made  an  inexpensive  process 
to  us — we  had  free  passes  over  all  the  lines  in  Victoria,  and 
free  passes  were  sent  us  from  New  South  Wales  on  the  mere 
report  that  we  were  going  thither.  We  left  Melbourne  on 
February  11  by  the  night  train  to  Sydney.  They  had  been 
very  good  to  us  there.  I  had  found  true  friends,  and  I  was 
sorry  to  think  that  I  should  probably  never  see  them  again. 
The  line  passes  through  the  highlands  where  the  rivers  rise 
that  run  inland  to  the  Murrumbidgee.  The  heat  had  been 
followed  by  violent  rain  ;  and  near  the  frontier  of  New  South 
Wales  an  embankment  and  bridge  had  been  earned  away  by 
a  flood  at  the  moment  when  the  train  from  Melbourne  was 
coming  up.  I  read  in  a  newspaper  that  the  pointsman  on  the 
bridge  had  seen  the  earth  giving  way,  and  had  seen  the  lights 
of  the  approaching  engine.  His  own  cottage,  with  his  wife 
and  children  sleeping  in  it,  stood  in  a  situation  where  it  would 
certainly  be  overwhelmed,  and  instant  warning  could  alone 
save  the  lives  of  his  family.  If  he  advanced  along  the  rail  to 
stop  the  engine  the  cottage  would  be  lost,  with  all  in  it.  The 
choice  was  hard,  and  nature  proved  the  strongest.  The  wife 
and  children  were  saved,  the  train  fell  into  the  boiling  abyss. 
11 


162  Oceana. 

The  broken  lines  had  been  repaired.  The  river  had  fallen 
back  into  its  channel,  and  we  passed  the  spot  unconsciously 
without  a  sight  of  the  ruins.  We  reached  the  frontier  of  New 
South  Wales  at  Albany  at  midnight.  We  were  now  in  an- 
other province,  among  other  men,  other  principles,  and  other 
political  theories.  Victoria  is  democratic,  progressive,  and 
eager  for  colonial  federation.  New  South  Wales  has  the 
same  form  of  government ;  is  progressive,  too,  in  its  more  de- 
liberate manner  ;  but  it  is  Conservative,  old-fashioned,  in  favour 
of  Imperial  federation,  and  opposed  to  Colonial  federation, 
which  it  fears,  as  likely  to  lead — little  as  the  Victorians  mean 
it — to  eventual  separation  and  independence.  There  are  dif- 
ferences of  tariff  too,  and  a  certain  rivalry  between  the  two 
colonies.  New  South  Wales  is  the  elder  brother,  and  expects 
a  deference  which  it  does  not  always  meet  with.  We  were 
asleep  when  we  crossed  the  border.  A  special  carriage  had 
been  reserved  for  us,  not  lined  with  blue  satin,  but  comfort- 
able enough  to  make  us  unconscious  of  ornamental  differ- 
ences. 

lu  the  morning,  we  became  aware  of  a  change  in  the  aspect 
of  the  country.  We  were  in  the  high  bush,  with  an  occa- 
sional clearing,  but  the  land  was  generally  unenclosed  and  un- 
occupied ;  we  were  among  mountains,  or  what  in  Australia 
pass  for  mountains — from  two  to  three  thousand  feet  above 
the  sea — a  wooded  plateau  broken  into  ridges,  with  glimpses 
occasionally  into  deeply  cut  valleys  below.  Victoria  had  been 
brown  and  heat-scorched.  Here  trees  and  grass  were  greener 
and  fresher  from  the  rain.  Of  animal  life  there  was  little  visi- 
ble ;  not  many  sheep  or  cattle  ;  of  rabbits,  none  ;  of  kanga- 
roos, none.  There  were  a  few  magpies,  a  few  parrots,  so 
pretty  with  their  bright  colours  that  one  wished  for  more.  A 
pair  of  laughing  jackasses  expressed  their  opinion  of  us,  as  we 
went  by — only  a  pair  ;  and  this  was  nearly  all.  After  breakfast 
the  country  improved  :  fiu'ins  and  homesteads  began  to  show, 


to  Sydney.  163 

with  enclosed  fields  and  gardens  ;  villages  had  grown  up  about 
the  stations  ;  boys  appeared  on  the  platforms  with  baskets  of 
grapes  and  newspapers.  From  the  latter,  New  South  Wales 
appeared  to  be  wholly  occupied  with  the  Soudoii  business, 
the  death  of  Gordon,  and  the  discredit  of  our  poor  country  at 
home.  It  seemed  to  be  assumed  that  we  should  now  rouse 
ourselves  and  make  an  effort  to  recover  our  honour,  and  in 
this  day  of  our  trouble  the  Australians  wished  to  be  allowed 
to  stand  at  our  side.  We  learnt  that  the  Ministry  at  Sydney 
had  offered  to  send  a  contingent  to  Suakin  at  the  Colony's  ex- 
pense. The  offer  had  been  despatched,  and  the  answer  was 
anxiously  expected.  This  was  a  new  feature  in  Colonial  his- 
tory, confirming  to  me  all  the  impressions  which  I  had  formed 
of  the  Colonists'  true  disposition.  It  was  an  interesting  but 
an  anxious  event,  and  I  could  perceive  that  much  would  turn 
on  what  the  answer  was.  A  refusal  would  be  especially  pleas- 
ing to  those  who  wished  ill  to  the  English  connection. 

In  the  forenoon  we  ran  down  from  the  hills  to  the  plains, 
which  we  had  seen  from  our  window  stretching  blue  and  hazy 
to  the  horizon.  Ten  miles  from  Sydney  the  detached  cottages 
became  thicker,  villages  smartened  themselves  into  suburbs. 
The  city  spread  inland  to  meet  us,  and  we  had  been  many 
minutes  running  between  houses  before  we  arrived  at  the 
station.  Sydney  proper — the  old  Sydney  of  the  first  settle- 
ment— stands  on  a  long  neck  of  land  at  the  mouth  of  the  Par- 
amatta river,  between  two  deep  creeks  which  form  its  harbour 
— that  is  its  inner  harbour,  where  its  docks  and  wharfs  are. 
Port  Jackson,  the  harbour  proper,  from  which  these  are  mere 
inlets,  is  the  largest  and  grandest  in  the  world.  A  passage 
about  a  mile  wide  has  been  cut  by  the  ocean  between  the  wall 
of  sandstone  cliffs  which  stretch  along  the  south-west  Austra- 
lian shores.  The  two  headlands  stand  out  as  gigantic  piers, 
and  the  tide  from  without,  and  the  freshwater  flood  from 
within,  have  formed  an  inlet  shaped  like  a  starfish,  with  a 


164  Ocecma. 

great  central  basin,  and  long  arms  and  estuaries  which  pierce 
the  land  in  all  directions,  and  wind  like  veins  between  lofty 
sandstone  banks.  The  rock  is  grey  or  red.  Worn  by  the 
rains  and  tides  of  a  thousand  human  generations,  it  projects 
in  overhanging  shelves,  or  breaks  off  into  the  water  and  lies 
there  in  fallen  masses. 

The  valleys  thus  formed,  and  widening  and  broadening 
with  age,  are  clothed  universally  with  the  primeval  forest  of 
Eucalyptus,  and  dark  Australian  pine — the  Eucalyptus  in  its 
most  protean  forms,  and  staining  its  foliage  in  the  most  varied 
colours,  the  red  cliffs  standing  out  between  the  branches,  or 
split  and  rent  where  the  roots  have  driven  a  way  into  their 
crevasses.  In  some  of  these  land-locked  reaches,  except  for  the 
sunshine  and  the  pure  blue  of  the  water,  I  could  have  fancied 
myself  among  the  yews  and  arbutuses  of  Killarney.  The  har- 
bour is  on  an  average,  I  believe,  about  nine  fathoms  deep. 
The  few  shoals  are  marked,  and  vessels  of  the  largest  size  lie 
in  any  part  of  it  in  perfect  security.  Sydney  itself  is  about 
seven  miles  from  the  open  sea.  The  entire  circuit,  I  was 
told,  if  you  follow  the  shore  round  all  the  winding  inlets  from 
bluff  to  bluff,  is  200  miles.  There  is  little  tide,  and  therefore 
no  unsightly  mud-banks  are  uncovered  at  low  water.  It  has 
the  aspect  and  character  of  a  perfect  inland  lake,  save  for  the 
sea  monsters — the  unnumbered  sharks  which  glide  to  and  fro 
beneath  the  treacherous  surface. 

There  is  no  originality  as  yet  in  railway  stations.  The 
station  at  Sydney  is,  like  all  other  stations,  merely  convenient 
and  hideous.  We  were  met  there  by  Sir  Henry  Parkes,  ex- 
premier,  for  the  present  retired  from  public  life,  but  probably 
not  to  remain  so.  He  had  kindly  written  to  me  when  I  was 
at  Melbourne  with  offers  of  hospitality.  I  found  him  a  tall, 
fine,  hale- looking  man  of  seventy,  warm  and  generous  in  man- 
ner, and  most  anxious  to  be  of  use  to  us.  The  Governor, 
Lord  Augustus  Loftus,  was  absent  in  the  mountains.  He  had 


The  Soudan   Contingent.  165 

left  a  letter  for  me,  expressing  his  regret  that  he  could  not 
receive  us  at  Government  House,  but  giving  us  a  warm  in- 
vitation to  pay  him  a  visit  at  his  country  residence.  E 

was  to  leave  us  to  stay  with  his  friend,  Admiral  Tryon,  en 
board  the  'Nelson,'  in  the  harbour.  Sir  Henry  Parkes,  with 
true  colonial  hospitality,  proposed  that  we  should  be  guests 
of  his  own,  or  that,  if  we  preferred  to  remain  in  Sydney  -  for 
he  himself  lived  a  great  many  miles  out  of  it — we  should  take 
up  an  abode  with  a  friend  of  his,  the  editor  of  the  leading 
Sydney  paper.  The  editor  himself,  and  his  handsome,  bright- 
looking  wife,  who  had  accompanied  Sir  Henry  to  the  station, 
heartily  endorsed  this  invitation.  In  Sir  Henry  we  should 
have  had  a  host  who  was  intimately  acquainted  with  the  in- 
ternal affairs  of  the  colony.  In  the  house  of  the  editor  \vo 
should  have  met  influential  and  interesting  gentlemen  con- 
nected with  the  Press  or  with  politics.  But  for  many  reasons 
I  wished  to  be  independent.  The  question  of  the  hour  was  the 
despatch  of  the  Colonial  contingent  to  Suakin,  and  Sir  Henry 
had  already  given  a  voice  in  opposition  to  the  Government 
offer.  The  general  sentiment  of  the  colony  was  loudly  favour- 
able, but  there  was  a  minority,  which  might  perhaps  become  a 
majority,  who  held  it  unnecessary,  uncalled-for,  and  unconstitu- 
tional, and  of  these  Sir  Henry  was  the  leading  representative. 
I  desired  to  observe  impartially  the  movements  of  opinion,  and 
I  hesitated  to  put  myself  directly  in  the  hands  of  anyone  who 
was  taking  a  decided  part.  He  had  anticipated  that  this 
might  be  my  feeling,  and  as  an  alternative  had  found  lodgings 
for  us,  if  we  pleased  to  engage  them,  in  Macquarrie  Street, 
the  Park  Lane  of  Sydney.  The  lodgings  seemed  all  that 
could  be  wished,  but  on  enquiring  further  I  found  that  for 
our  sitting-room  and  two  bedrooms  I  should  have  to  pay  the 
modest  price  of  151.  a  week.  Modest  price  it  essentially  was, 
though  at  the  first  mention  startling.  Wages  in  Sydney  are 
twice  what  they  are  at  home  ;  and  most  other  things  are  in 


166  Oceana. 

the  same  proportion.     What  in  England  costs  sixpence,  in 
Sydney  costs  a  shilling  ;  money  is  twice  as  easily  earned,  and 
the  result  to  residents  is  the  same  in  the  long  run.     I,  how- 
ever, had  not  come  thither  to  earn  wages  double  or  single, 
and  15/.  a  week  was  beyond  me.    We  had  been  offered  rooms 
at  the  Australian  Club  ;   Macquarrie  Street  overlooked  the 
gardens  and  the  harbour,  and  the  prospect  from  it  was  ex- 
quisite ;  the  Australian  Club  was  in  the  heart  of  the  city  ;  but 
the  charges  there  were  moderate,  the  bedrooms  said  to  be 
comfortable,  and  the  living  as  good  as  could  be  desired.     It 
was  close  to  the  Bank,  the  public  offices,  and  the  commercial 
port ;  the  gardens  were  within  a  short  walk  ;  the  Club  was 
clearly  the  place,  and  to  this  we  decided  to  go.     Sir  Henry 
accompanied  me  in  a  cab  to  the  door,  showing  me  the  park, 
and  Woolner's  great  statue   of  Cook  on  the  way.     He  then 
left  me,  not  choosing  to  go  in,  as  he  might  meet  excited  pol- 
iticians there.     My  son  brought  down  the  portmanteaus  iu  a 
cab,  for  which  he  had  to  pay  five  shillings.     We  settled  in, 
and  found  our  quarters  as  satisfactory  as  we  had  been  led  to 
expect.   There  was  not  the  splendour  of  Melbourne,  but  there 
was  equal  comfort,  and  from  the  cards  and  invitations  which 
were  instantly  showered  upon  us  we  found  that  the  disposi- 
tion of  the  inhabitants  was  as  warm,  though  it  differed  in 
form.     In  Victoria  they  wished  to  show  us  their  colony  ;  in 
New  South  Wales  they  offered  us  admission  into  their  society. 
They  are  not  behind  in  energy  and  enterprise  ;  in  essentials, 
New  South  Wales  is  as  '  go-ahead  '  as  the  sister  community ; 
but  it  has  been  longer  settled,  and  they  go  about  their  work 
more  quietly.     Four  generations  have  passed  since  Sydney 
became  a  city,  and  the  colonists  there  have  conti-acted  from  the 
climate  something  of  the  character  of  a  Southern  race.     Few 
collections  of  human  beings  on  this  planet  have  so  much  to 
enjoy,  and  so.  little  to  suffer ;  and  they  seem  to  feel  it,  and  in 
the  midst  of  business  to  take  their  ease  and  enjoy  themselves. 


Sydney  Gardens.  167 

Among  the  other  cards  there  was  a  note  from  the  admiral, 
asking  us  to  dine  the  next  day  on  board  the  '  Nelson.'  The 
deck  of  an  English  man-of-war,  wherever  she  may  be,  is  Eng- 
lish soil.  When  you  stand  on  those  planks  you  are  an  Eng- 
lish subject,  and  nothing  else,  under  English  law  and  author- 
ity. Colonial  jurisdiction  reaches  to  the  ship's  side,  but  goes 
no  further.  The  colonists  were  loyal  fellow-subjects  and  were 
that  moment  giving  a  distinguished  proof  of  it ;  but  Oceana 
is  not  yet  a  political  reality  ;  it  would  be  pleasant  to  feel  en- 
tirely at  home,  if  but  for  a  few  hours  ;  and  the  account  of  the 

admiral,  which  we  had  heard  from  E ,  made  me  glad  of 

an  opportunity  of  becoming  acquainted  with  him. 

On  the  first  evening  we  were  left  to  ourselves.  I  walked 
up  in  the  twilight  to  the  esplanade  at  the  gate  of  the  public 
garden,  and  I  think  I  have  never  in  my  life  gazed  on  a  scene 
so  entirely  beautiful.  It  was  not  for  the  trees  and  flowers. 
They  were  lovely,  and  anywhere  in  Europe  would  be  cele- 
brated as  a  wonder.  But  there  was  not  the  science,  there 
was  not  the  elaborate  variety,  which  I  had  admired  at  Ballarat. 
Sydney  is  many  degrees  hotter.  Tropical  plants  which  there 
require  glass  to  shelter  them,  at  Sydney  breathe  luxuriantly 
the  free  air  of  heaven  ;  but  the  roses  and  lilies  of  the  temper- 
ate zone,  which  are  the  fairest  flowers  that  blow,  grow  feebly 
there,  or  will  not  grow  at  ah1.  It  is  the  situation  which  gives 
to  the  Sydney  garden  so  exquisite  a  charm.  The  ground  slopes 
from  the  town  to  the  sea  with  inclining  lawns,  flower-beds, 
and  the  endless  variety  of  the  tropical  flora.  Tall  Norfolk 
Island  Pines  tower  up  dark  into  the  air,  and  grand  walks 
wind  for  miles  among  continually  varying  landscapes,  which 
are  framed  by  the  openings  in  the  foliage  of  the  perfumed 
shrubs.  Within  the  compass  of  the  garden  the  sea  forms  two 
deep  bays,  one  of  which  is  reserved  for  the  ships  of  the 
squadron.  Five  vessels  lay  at  anchor  there,  their  spars  black 
against  the  evening  sky,  and  the  long  pennants  drooping  at 


168  Oceana. 

the  masthead  ;  the  '  Nelson  '  sitting  like  a  queen  in  the  midst 
of  them,  the  admiral's  white  flag  hanging  over  the  stern. 
Steam-launches  were  gliding  at  half-power  over  the  glassy 
waters,  which  were  pink  with  the  reflection  of  the  sunset. 
Boats  were  bringing  off  officers  and  men  who  had  been  at 
leave  on  shore  ;  the  old  order,  form,  and  discipline  in  the  new 
land  of  liberty — the  shield  behind  which  alone  the  vaulted 
liberty  is  possible.  Behind  the  anchorage  were  rocky  islands, 
with  the  deserted  ruins  of  ancient  batteries,  now  useless  and 
superseded  by  ampler  fortifications  inside  the  bluffs.  Mer- 
chant ships  lay  scattered  over  the  outer  harbour,  and  a  yacht 
or  two  lay  drifting  with  idle  sails.  Crowded  steam  ferry- 
boats were  carrying  the  workmen  home  from  the  city  to  dis- 
tant villages.  On  wooded  upland  or  promontory  shone 
the  white  palaces  of  the  Sydney  merchants,  and  beyond 
again  were  the  green  hills,  softened  by  distance  and  the 
growing  dusk  iuto  purple,  which  encircle  the  great  inlet  of 
Port  Jackson. 

As  a  mere  picture  it  was  the  loveliest  that  I  had  ever  looked 
upon.  The  bay  at  Rio,  I  am  told,  is  equally  fine,  and  indeed 
finer,  being  overhung  by  mountains.  There  are  no  moun- 
tains at  Sydney.  The  Blue  Eange  is  far  off  on  the  land  side, 
and  makes  no  pail  of  the  harbour  scenery.  But  one  does  not 
always  wish  for  grandeur.  Sydney  has  the  perfection  of  soft 
beauty,  and  one  desires  no  more.  At  Rio,  moreover,  if  the 
English  flag  is  seen,  it  flies  as  a  stranger.  At  Sydney  there 
are  the  associations  of  home — we  are  among  our  own  people, 
in  a  land  which  our  fathers  had  won  for  us. 

I  stood  admiring  till  twilight  had  become  night.  The  stars 
grew  visible  and  the  great  bats,  the  flying  squirrels,  came  out 
to  hunt  the  foolish  moths.  I  could  take  in  the  scene  only  as 
a  whole.  The  details  of  it  I  studied  afterwards.  The  air  was 
sultrier  even  than  at  St.  Hubert's  ;  greater  heat  had  not  been 
known,  even  at  Sydney,  for  several  years.  I  returned  to  my 


Life  at  tlie  Club.  169 

club  and  to  bed,  to  find,  alas  !  that  I  was  not  yet  in  Paradise, 
or  if  I  was,  it  was  Paradise  after  the  FalL 

Dead-tired,  I  slept  till  morning — safe,  as  I  fondly  believed, 
behind  mosquito-curtaius.  I  awoke  bitten  over  hands  and 
face  as  a  young  author  is  bitten  by  the  critics  on  his  first  ap- 
pearance in  print.  The  mosquito  of  Sydney  is  the  most  veno- 
mous of  his  whole  detested  race.  Where  he  has  fastened  his 
fangs  and  poured  in  his  poison,  there  rise  lumps  and  blotches 
which  irritate  to  madness.  The  blotch  opens  into  a  sore,  and 
I  was  left  with  a  wound  on  the  back  of  my  right  hand  which 
did  not  heal  for  a  month.  Happily,  again  like  the  critic,  he 
chieny  torments  the  new-comers.  I  was  inoculated  that  night 
and  suffered  no  more  afterwards.  Perhaps  the  blood  is  in 
some  way  affected  and  the  venom  finds  an  antidote. 

One  forgets,  however,  even  mosquito-bites  among  entirely 
new  sensations.  The  club  reading-room  after  breakfast  was 
full  of  gentlemen  in  eager  and  anxious  conversation  on  the 
auxiliary  force.  Was  it  right  to  have  made  the  offer,  and 
would  the  offer  be  accepted  ?  The  prevailing  toue  was  of 
hope  and  warm  approval.  New  South  Wales  had  been  ac- 
cused of  coldness  to  the  Australian  Federation  scheme,  and 
of  indifference  to  the  Germam  aggression  in  New  Guinea. 
The  true  heart  of  the  colony  had  now  an  opportunity  of  show- 
ing what  it  really  was.  If  the  proposal  was  coldly  refused,  as 
some  thought  it  would  be,  then  indeed  it  would  be  a  fresh  in- 
stance of  the  indifference  with  which  the  colonies  were  re- 
garded. It  would  be  a  sign  that  the  Separatist  policy  was  to 
be  persevered  in  at  home,  and  an  impulse  would  be  given  to 
the  Separatist  policy  in  their  own  country  to  which,  in  that 
case,  they  might  have  reluctantly  to  yield.  But  they  hoped 
better  things.  The  people  of  England  would  not  cast  away 
a  hand  so  freely  held  out  to  them.  It  might  draw  the  nation 
together  instead  of  dividing  it,  and  prove  a  turning-point  in 
the  relation  between  the  colonies  and  the  mother  country. 


170  Oceana. 

There  was  not  unanimity,  however.  There  were  some,  and 
those  not  at  all  fools  and  not  disloyal,  who  maintained  that  the 
answer  would  certainly  be  negative,  and  that  they  were  ex- 
posing themselves  gratuitously  to  an  affront.  If  even  it  were 
accepted,  the  offer  ought  not  to  have  been  made  so  precipi- 
tately, when  the  Colonial  Parliament  was  not  sitting,  and  the 
constitutional  sanction  could  neither  be  asked  nor  obtained. 
Mr.  Dalley,  who  had  taken  upon  himself  to  speak  for  the 
colony,  was  not  even  Prime  Minister.  He  was  the  Attorney- 
General  and  acting-Premier  only  in  the  absence  of  his  chief, 
Mr.  Stuart.  On  the  general  merits  of  the  question  there  was 
no  occasion  for  Australia  to  thrust  herself  unasked  into  Eng- 
land's foreign  complications.  If  the  great  Powers  combined 
to  injure  England  there  would  be  a  claim  on  them  to  which, 
of  course,  they  would  respond  ;  but  this  Egyptian  affair  was 
a  war  of  England's  own  seeking,  and  for  them  to  mix  them- 
selves up  with  it  would  be  at  once  gratuitous  and  useless, 
and  an  unjustifiable  burden  upon  the  colonial  resources. 
England  had  withdrawn  her  troops  from  the  colonies,  and 
had  charged  them  with  the  cost  of  their  own  defence.  If 
they  wanted  soldiers  she  had  warned  them  that  they  must 
provide  soldiers  for  themselves.  An  English  fleet  was  still  in 
their  waters,  but  they  had  been  encouraged  and  were  expected 
to  fit  out  ships  of  their  own,  and  had  already  formed  an  im- 
perfect squadron.  They  had  been  even  forced  to  introduce  a 
difference  into  their  flag.  It  was  absurd,  under  these  circum- 
stances, to  strip  themselves  of  the  scanty  force  which  they 
possessed,  to  leave  themselves  without  sufficient  trained  men 
to  serve  their  batteries,  and  to  invite  attack  from  the  rest  of 
the  world  in  case  the  war  spread,  which  it  was  exceedingly 
likely  to  do.  England's  conduct  in  the  Egyptian  business 
had  left  her  without  a  friend  in  Europe.  Already  rumours 
were  heard  of  differences  on  the  Afghan  frontier  with  Russia, 
and  the  Russian  fleet  iu  the  Amoor  was  a  dangerous  neigh- 


Political  Anxieties.  171 

hour.  So  long  as  they  kept  aloof  from  these  complications, 
foreign  nations  might  respect  their  neutrality.  England  had 
ostentatiously  told  them  that  she  wanted  nothing  of  them  ex- 
cept that  they  should  spare  her  further  trouble.  To  put 
themselves  foi-ward  unasked  was  to  challenge  attack,  and  was 
Quixotic  and  absurd.  They  might  wake  up  some  morning  to 
find  the  Russian  ironclads  at  the  Bluff,  and  Sydney  at  their 
mercy,  and  Sir  Henry  Parkes  had  said  plainly  that  a  minister 
who  went  into  such  an  enterprise  without  leave  of  Parliament, 
on  his  own  responsibility,  would  deserve  to  be  impeached. 

The  answer  from  Lord  Derby  had  been  delayed.  Some- 
thing was  said  to  be  wrong  with  the  telegraph  on  the  Persian 
frontier.  Strange  to  think  that  communication  between 
London  and  an  island  at  the  Antipodes  should  be  carried  on 
through  ancient  Parthia  and  across  the  rivers  of  Ecbatana  and 
Babylon  !  It  was  not  to  be  denied  that  there  was  force  in 
Parkes's  arguments.  England's  own  attitude  to  the  colonies, 
so  far  as  it  had  been  denned  by  the  leading  Liberal  statesmen, 
had  incited  and  provoked  them  to  dissociate  themselves  from 
her.  Had  the  answer  of  England  when  it  arrived  been  hesi- 
tating, or  had  it  been  long  in  coining,  reflection  would  have 
given  weight  to  the  objections.  The  impulse  would  have 
died  away  and  no  more  would  have  been  heard  about  the 
matter.  But  the  wires  were  replaced  quickly,  and  brought  a 
warm  and  grateful  assent.  The  Agent-General  in  London 
sent  word  that  the  offer  of  the  colony  had  been  welcomed 
with  universal  appreciation  by  the  whole  English  nation,  and 
the  corresponding  enthusiasm  was  irresistible.  To  be  allowed 
to  share  in  the  perils  and  glories  of  the  battle-field,  as  part  of 
a  British  army,  was  regarded  at  once  as  a  distinction  of  which 
Australia  might  be  proud  and  as  a  guarantee  of  their  future 
position  as  Biitish  subjects.  The  help  which  they  were  now 
giving  might  be  slight,  but  Australia  in  a  few  years  would 
number  ten  million  men,  and  this  small  body  was  an  earnest 


172  Oceana. 

of  what  they  might  do  hereafter.  If  ever  England  herself 
was  threatened,  or  if  there  was  another  mutiny  in  India,  they 
would  risk  life,  fortune — all  they  had — as  willingly  as  they 
were  sending  their  present  contingent.  It  was  a  practical  dem- 
onstration in  favour  of  Imperial  unity. 

Volunteers  crowded  to  enrol  their  names.  Patriotic  citizens 
gave  contributions  of  money  on  a  scale  which  showed  that 
little  need  be  feared  for  the  taxpayer.  Archbishop  Moran,  the 
Catholic  Primate,  gave  a  hundred  pounds,  as  an  example  and 
instruction  to  the  Irish ;  others,  the  wealthy  ones,  gave  a 
thousand.  The  rush  of  feeling  was  curious  and  interesting 
to  witness.  The  only  question  with  me  was  if  it  would  last 
The  ancient  Scythians  discussed  critical  national  affairs  first 
drunk  and  then  sober.  Excited  emotion  is  followed  by  a  cold 
fit,  and  it  is  desirable  to  postpone  a  final  decision  till  the  cold 
fit  has  come.  If  the  force  went  and  was  cut  to  pieces,  if  it 
was  kept  in  garrison  and  not  exposed  in  the  field,  if  it  suffered 
from  sickness  or  from  any  one  of  the  innumerable  misadven- 
tures to  which  troops  on  active  service  are  liable,  the  sense  of 
glory  might  turn  to  discontent,  the  tide  would  change,  and 
worse  might  follow  than  if  the  enterprise  had  never  been  ven- 
tured. The  opposition  was  not  silenced ;  I  Listened  for  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  to  an  orator  haranguing  a  crowd  in  the 
public  park.  He  spoke  well,  and  I  was  glad  that  I  had  not 
to  answer  him.  '  What  was  this  war  in  the  Soudan  ? '  he 
said  ;  '  who  were  these  poor  Arabs  and  why  were  we  killing 
them?  By  our  own  confession  they  were  brave  men  who 
were  fighting  for  the  liberty  of  their  country.  Why  had  we 
invaded  them?  Did  we  want  to  take  their  country  from 
them  ?  If  it  was  necessary  for  our  own  safety  there  would  be 
some  excuse,  but  we  had  ostentatiously  declared  that  after 
conquering  them  we  intended  to  withdraw.  Neither  we  nor 
anyone  could  tell  what  we  wanted.  We  were  shooting  down 
human  beings  in  tens  of  thousands,  whose  courage  we  our- 


The  Soudan  Contingent.  173 

selves  admired.  They  had  done  us  no  wrong,  and  no  object 
could  be  suggested  save  that  the  English  Government  had  a 
difficulty  in  keeping  their  party  contented  in  Parliament. 
Was  this  a  cause  in  which  far-off  Australia  should  seek  a  part 
uncalled-for,  or  lend  her  sanction  to  an  enormous  crime  ?  Let 
her  keep  at  home  and  mind  her  own  business,  and  not  add, 
without  better  occasion,  to  the  burdens  of  her  people.' 

The  crowd  listened,  and  here  and  there,  especially  when 
the  speaker  dwelt  upon  the  right  of  all  people  to  manage 
their  own  affairs,  there  were  murmurs  of  approval ;  but  the 
immense  majority  were  indifferent  or  hostile.  The  man,  in 
fact,  was  speaking  beside  the  mark.  The  New  South  Wales 
colonists  cared  nothing  about  the  Soudan.  They  were  mak- 
ing a  demonstration  in  favour  of  national  identity.  Many 
causes  combined  to  induce  them  to  welcome  the  opportunity 
of  being  of  use.  There  was  a  genuine  feeling  for  Gordon. 
There  was  a  genuine  indignation  against  Mr.  Gladstone's 
Government.  Gordon  was  theirs  as  well  as  ours.  He  was 
the  last  of  the  race  of  heroes  who  had  won  for  England  her 
proud  position  among  the  nations  ;  he  had  been  left  to  neg- 
lect and  death,  and  the  national  glory  was  sullied.  There 
was  a  desire,  too,  to  show  those  who  had  scorned  the  colo- 
nists and  regarded  them  as  a  useless  burden  on  the  Imperial 
resources,  that  they  were  as  English  as  the  English  at  home. 
We  might  refuse  them  a  share  in  our  successes.  We  could 
not  and  should  not  refuse  them  a  share  in  our  trials.  '  You 
do  not  want  us,'  they  seemed  to  say,  '  but  we  are  part  of  you, 
bone  of  your  bone  ;  we  refuse  to  be  dissociated  from  you.' 
It  was  an  appeal  to  the  English  people  against  the  English 
political  philosophers  ;  an  answer  which  would  at  last  be 
listened  to  against  the  advocates  of  separation..  If  it  failed 
to  convince  Mr.  Goldwin  Smith  and  his  disciples,  it  would 
deprive  them  of  further  support  from  the  body  of  the  nation. 
It  would  have  a  further  effect  which  would  be  felt  all  the 


174  Oceana. 

world  over.  In  their  estimate  of  the  strength,  present  and 
future,  of  Great  Britain,  the  great  Powers  had  left  the  col- 
onies unconsidered.  In  that  quarter,  at  least,  the  effect  of 
Mr.  Goldwin  Smith's  theories  was  well  understood.  Other 
nations  would  grow.  England,  if  it  shut  itself  within  its  own 
limits,  could  not  grow,  or  would  grow  only  to  her  own  de- 
struction. They  would  increase  and  she  would  decrease,  and 
they  despised  her  accordingly.  They  had  taken  the  political 
economists  as  the  exponents  of  the  national  sentiment.  They 
had  assumed  that  if  war  came  the  colonies  would  immediately 
fall  off.  In  this  spontaneous  act  of  the  Australians  the  great 
Powers  would  see  that  they  would  have  to  reckon  not  with  a 
small  island  whose  relative  consequence  was  decreasing  daily, 
but  with  a  mighty  empire  with  a  capacity  for  unbounded  ex- 
pansion, her  naval  fortunes  duly  supported  in  the  four  quar- 
ters of  the  globe,  a  new  England  growing  daily  in  population 
and  in  wealth  with  incredible  speed,  and  all  parts  of  it  com- 
bined in  a  passion  of  patriotism,  with  the  natural  cord  of 
affinity  to  which  the  strongest  political  confederacy  was  as  a 
rope  of  straw.  A  contingent  of  700  men  was  nothing  in  it- 
self, but  it  was  a  specimen  from  an  inexhaustible  mine.  To 
India,  too,  a  lesson  would  be  read,  if  any  there  were  dream- 
ing of  another  mutiny.  It  would  be  seen  that  the  British 
rulers  of  India  had  a  fresh  reservoir  of  strength  within  strik- 
ing distance. 

This  sudden  display  of  feeling  had  been  recognised  by  the 
remarkable  man  who  at  the  moment  was  at  the  helm  in  New 
South  Wales,  and  being  himself  an  earnest  believer  in  Oceana, 
he  saw  an  opportunity  before  him  of  bringing  that  splendid 
vision  a  step  nearer  to  reality.  Mr.  Dalley  knew  as  well  as 
his  opponents  that  he  was  running  a  risk.  But  for  a  great 
object  great  risks  must  be  run.  No  great  thing  has  ever 
been  done  in  this  world  by  a  man  who  is  afraid  of  responsi- 
bility. The  present  moment  was  his  own.  For  the  time,  at 


Mr.  DaUey.  175 

least,  he  had  the  opinion  of  the  Colony  at  his  back.  It  might 
have  been  better  perhaps  to  have  deliberated  longer— safer 
for  him  to  have  called  the  Parliament  together.  But  there 
was  no  time  for  either.  The  thing,  if  done  at  all,  must  be 
done  immediately.  The  colony  was  in  a  fever  of  military 
preparation  ;  all  available  stores  were  laid  hands  upon.  The 
steamers  in  the  harbour  were  secured  with  the  most  splendid 
indifference  to  expense.  In  the  temper  which  men  were  in, 
five  or  six  times  the  force  could  have  been  raised,  with  equal 
ease  if  the  occasion  had  required.  Was  the  despatch  of  the 
Contingent  a  mere  ridiculous  outburst  of  vanity  and  senti- 
ment ?  Was  it  a  wise  and  generous  act,  good  in  itself,  and 
promising  to  lead  in  future  to  greater  good  ?  This  was  the 
question  which  all  men  were  asking  one  another  on  the  morn- 
ing after  our  arrival  in  Sydney,  and  our  visit  could  not  have 
fallen  at  a  more  interesting  time.  A  gentleman  at  the  club, 
Mr.  Augustus  Morris  (I  mention  his  name  that  I  may  thank 
him  for  many  acts  of  politeness),  was  a  friend  of  Mr.  Dalley 
and  volunteered,  after  breakfast  to  introduce  me  to  him.  I 
was  shy  of  intruding  upon  a  man  who  was  engaged  in  so  large 
an  affair  and  whose  time  was  precious.  Mr.  Morris,  however, 
undertook  that  Mr.  Dalley  would  be  glad  to  see  me,  and  that 
my  call  upon  him  would  not  be  regarded  with  impatience. 
The  Government  offices — a  large  and  handsome  range  of 
buildings  overlooking  the  Commercial  harbour — were  but  a 
few  steps  distant.  It  was  still  extremely  hot  We  found  the 
acting-Premier  in  a  spacious  lofty  room,  the  windows  all 
open,  himself  at  his  table  in  his  shirt-sleeves ;  secretaries 
about  him  busy  writing  ;  officers,  civil  and  military,  waiting 
instructions,  and  the  Premier  himself,  the  coolest-looking 
object  in  the  apartment,  giving  out  his  instructions  with  an 
easy  unembarrassed  manner,  as  if  organizing  expeditious  had 
been  the  occupation  of  his  life.  Several  minutes  passed  be- 
fore he  could  attend  to  us,  and  I  used  them  in  looking  closely 


176  Oceana. 

at  a  man  who  was  making,  perhaps,  an  epoch  in  Colonial  his- 
tory. Mr.  Dalley  was  a  short,  thick-set  man  of  fifty  or  there- 
abouts, with  strong  neck,  large  head,  a  clear  steady  eye,  and 
firmly  shaped  mouth  and  chin.  The  face  was  good-humoured, 
open,  and  generous.  "When  he  laughed  it  was  heartily,  with- 
out a  trait  of  malice.  The  directions  which  I  heard  him  giv- 
ing were  quiet  but  distinct,  no  words  wasted,  but  the  thing 
meant  clearly  said.  He  was  evidently  a  strong  man,  but  per- 
haps generally  an  indolent  one,  who  might  not  think  it  worth 
while  to  exert  himself  except  on  extraordinary  occasions.  In 
fact,  he  had  not  so  far  cared  to  take  a  leading  part  in  colo- 
nial politics.  He  was  a  successful  lawyer.  He  was  Attorney- 
General,  but  professionally  too  he  had  not  been  covetous  of 
extensive  business.  He  was  a  Roman  Catholic,  but  a  Cath- 
olic of  the  high  cultivated  and  liberal  type  of  which  Cardinal 
Newman  is  the  chief  living  representative.  He  had  read 
largely,  was  a  fine  Italian  scholar,  a  collector  of  pictures,  an 
architect — in  short,  a  man  at  all  points,  in  whom  the  accident 
of  his  leader's  ill-health  had,  at  a  critical  moment,  placed  the 
direction  of  the  affairs  of  the  colony.  An  anecdote — a  very 
touching  one — was  mentioned  to  me,  of  his  private  life,  which 
I  hope  trat  he  will  pardon  me  for  mentioning.  I  was  looking 
at  a  singularly  pretty  house  overhanging  the  water,  pictu- 
resque in  itself  and  beautifully  situated.  '  That  was  Dalley's,' 
a  friend  observed  to  me.  '  He  built  it ;  his  wife  died  there, 
and  he  could  never  bear  to  enter  it  afterwards.  It  was  sold, 
and  he  now  lives  with  his  only  child  at  the  other  end  of  the 
harbour.  He  never  thought  of  marrying  again,  and  he  never 
will' 

This  was  the  man  whose  leisure  we  were  waiting  for.  As 
soon  as  he  was  able  to  speak  to  us,  he  was  most  kind  and 
cordial,  but  of  leisure  lie  had  very  little.  He  said  a  few 
words  to  me  about  the  expedition,  and  seemed  pleased  with 
such  answers  as  I  could  give  ;  but  a  dozen  fresh  people  were 


Sydney  Harbour.  177 

waiting  for  his  orders.  '  You  see  how  I  am  situated,'  ho 
said ;  '  I  cannot  talk  to  you  now,  but  I  shall  have  other  op- 
portunities. We  must  make  your  stay  at  Sydney  as  pleasant 
as  we  can.  What  can  we  do  for  you  this  morning  ? '  Mr. 
Morris  suggested  something.  '  Yes,  that  will  be  the  best/ 
he  said  ;  '  we  will  send  you  round  the  harbour.'  He  called  a 
servant,  bade  him  order  the  Government  steam-launch  to  be 
ready  at  the  stairs  in  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  then  dis- 
missed us  to  go  on  with  his  work.  There,  I  thought  to  my- 
self, is  a  man  whom  it  is  worth  while  to  have  come  all  this 
way  to  see. 

Mr.  Morris  kept  us  in  charge.  The  launch  duly  appeared 
with  the  British  flag  at  the  stern— a  long,  fast,  handsome 
boat,  the  stern-seats  comfortably,  but  not  luxuriously,  fitted, 
and  an  awning  spread  over  them.  A  large  basket  of  delicious 
black  grapes  was  provided,  as  a  corrective  of  the  heat,  and 
away  we  steamed  eight  or  ten  knots  an  hour,  and  making  a 
breeze  out  of  our  own  speed,  to  explore  the  recesses  of  the 
loveliest  of  all  salt-water  lakes.  There  are  a  few  spots 
marked  with  white  as  we  look  back  over  the  story  of  our 
lives — with  me  chiefly  landscapes  of  wood  and  water,  or  inter- 
views with  some  superior  man.  This  day  stands  among  the 
brightest  in  my  memory  on  both  accounts,  for  I  had  seen 
Mr.  Dalley,  and  next  I  saw  Port  Jackson.  We  shot  under 
the  stern  of  the  'Nelson,'  ran  through  the  squadron,  and 
skirted  the  shores  of  the  Public  Gardens,  as  beautiful  from 
the  sea  as  the  sea  was  beautiful  from  them.  We  wound 
round  the  shallow  bays,  under  the  windows  of  palaces  like 
Aladdin's.  I  enquired  who  might  be  the  owner  of  one  of 
these  which  was  of  exceptionable  magnificence.  Mr.  Tooth,  I 
was  told,  brother  of  the  Mr.  Tooth  theologically  famous  some 
years  ago  in  London,  the  family  talent  being  many-sided  and 
achieving  distinction  in  more  lines  than  one.  The  fine 
houses  grew  scarcer,  as  we  increased  our  distance  from 
12 


178  Oecana. 

Sydney.  The  primitive  forest  was  less  invaded,  save  by  an 
occasional  sea-mark  or  memorial  column.  Yachts  and  fish- 
ing-boats were  round  us.  Sydney  is  a  great  place  for  yacht- 
ing, in  the  still  water  and  yet  ample  sea-room.  The  ship- 
channel  narrows  two  miles  within  the  Heads,  and  becomes 
intricate  among  hidden  rocks  and  shoals.  The  passage  be- 
tween them  has  been  selected  as  the  point  of  defence,  and  we 
saw  on  either  side  among  the  hills  the  escarpments  of  modern 
batteries,  on  which,  I  believe,  a  few  guns  of  heavy  calibre  are 
already  mounted,  and  others  are  to  follow.  Turning  in  and 
out  along  the  coastline  we  doubled  the  distance  which  we  had 
to  travel  over.  After  an  hour  of  fast-going  we  came  in  sight 
of  the  Heads,  and  exchanged  the  lakelike  stillness  of  the 
inland  water  for  the  ocean  swell  that  rolled  in  between  them. 
The  sandstone  cliffs  now  became  more  rugged  from  the  fret- 
ting of  the  waves,  projecting  in  overhanging  shelves  where 
the  softer  stone  was  eaten  out  below  them.  Trunks  of  dead 
trees  stood  bare  and  desolate  among  the  fallen  blocks.  Had 
our  launch  been  less  '  tender  '  we  could  have  looked  outside 
and  perhaps  caught  a  shark  or  two  by  trailing  a  baited  line  ; 
but  she  was  already  lurching  heavily  as  we  crossed  the  mouth 
and  were  broadside  to  the  swell.  We  got  into  shelter  again 
in  a  long  deep  inlet  at  the  head  of  which  was  a  beach  of  white 
sand  and  a  number  of  good-looking  cottages  and  houses,  one 
of  which  belonged  to  Mr.  Morris  himself,  another  and  a 
larger  on  an  eminence  was  the  second  house  of  Mr.  Dalley, 
which  he  had  again  erected  on  his  own  design.  Mr.  Morris 
gave  us  luncheon  and  afterwards  we  walked  up  to  look  at  it, 
the  owner  being,  as  we  knew,  absent.  It  was  a  castle  half- 
finished  ;  built  in  pieces,  a  room  completed  here,  a  turret 
there,  with  the  intervals  to  be  filled  up  at  leisure.  The  ex- 
terior of  the  mansion  was  picturesque  in  its  way,  or  promised 
to  become  so.  The  interior  jarred  a  little  on  my  bigoted 
Protestantism,  for  the  walls  of  the  living  rooms  were  covered 


Sydney  Harbour.  179 

either  with  fresco-paintings  or  pictures  and  engravings,  all  of 
a  neo-Catholic  complexion.  The  view  from  the  terrace  was 
curious  as  well  as  magnificent,  for  we  could  see  across  the 
sandy  ridge  at  the  head  of  the  inlet  into  the  open  ocean. 
The  distance  was  scarcely  a  quarter  of  a  mile  from  sea  to  sea, 
and  a  second  entrance  into  the  harbour  is  very  nearly  formed 
there. 

Taking  again  to  our  launch  we  entered  what  might  have 
been  the  mouth  of  a  river,  but  is  merely  a  deep  estuary  with 
long  narrow  reaches  running  for  many  miles  between  shores 
which  became  higher  and  bolder  as  we  went  on.  Inlet  opened 
out  of  inlet  as  with  the  fiords  in  Norway.  The  primeval  eu- 
calyptus forest  was  here  undisturbed  in  its  original  condi- 
tion ;  the  trees,  some  enormous,  with  distorted  and  fantastic 
stems,  the  foliage  so  luxuriant  and  so  many -coloured  that  no 
painter  could  dare  to  imitate  it.  Sometimes  we  were  in  utter 
solitude  ;  sometimes  we  came  suddenly  on  waterside  hotel  or 
boarding-house  to  which  the  Sydney  people  went  for  change 
of  air. 

A  cottage  boldly  placed  behind  a  high  crag  hanging  over 
the  sea  and  half-concealed  among  rocks  and  trees,  was  the 
home  of  one  of  the  professors  of  Sydney  University.  Then 
again  we  passed  a  group  of  tents  where  students  were  out  on 
a  reading  party ;  while  between  hollows  in  the  hills  we 
caught  sight  of  the  masts  and  spars  of  a  ship  lying  at  anchor 
in  a  bay,  which  by  water  might  be  a  dozen  miles  from  us  and 
over  the  land  might  be  a  mile  or  less. 

Mr.  Morris  was  the  best  of  guides  ;  naturally,  however,  he 
had  much  to  ask  about  our  affairs  at  home.  The  morning's 
telegraph  had  brought  news  of  General  Earle's  death,  and 
Frederick  Burnaby's,  with  many  other  officers'.  What  was 
to  come  of  all  that  ?  Then  again  about  the  great  Upas-tree 
policy?  I  could  only  tell  him  that  this  last  had  resulted  so 
far  in  Ireland  being  put  into  a  strait  waistcoat,  while  the 


180  Oceana. 

English  influence  there  had  been  ruined.  Crimes  had  less- 
ened, some  people  thought  as  a  consequence  of  the  conces- 
sions to  Irish  ideas,  others  thought  from  the  waistcoat  only  ; 
but  I  would  have  preferred  not  to  talk  about  so  dreary  a  sub- 
ject. We  turned  home  after  seeing  about  half  of  the  wonders 
of  the  harbour,  leaving  the  rest  to  another  day. 

In  the  evening  there  was  a  dinner  on  board  the  'Nelson,' 

where  we  found  E again.     The  admiral  is  in  person  a 

giant,  but,  unlike  most  giants,  a  man  of  marked  ability,  a 
first  rate  sailor,  an  accomplished  and  prudent  administrator, 
a  diplomat,  dignified,  courteous,  cultivated,  a  gentleman  in 
the  finest  sense  of  the  word.  His  flag-captain — Captain  Lake, 
whom  I  had  met  in  England — dined  with  us,  and  several 
other  officers.  Among  the  guests  was  the  Chief  Justice, 
Sir  James  Martin,  a  stout,  round-faced,  remarkable  old  man, 
with  the  fine  classical  training  which  belonged  to  the  last 
generation  of  distinguished  lawyers,  and  well  read  in  the  best 
modern  literature.  Sir  James  has  filled  successively  all  the 
highest  posts  in  the  Colony,  and  all  with  eminent  success. 
He  was  a  brilliant  talker,  and  I  sate  with  him  alone  after 
coffee,  in  the  stern  gallery,  hearing  his  opinions  on  many 
interesting  subjects :  Greek  and  Roman  literature,  modern 
poetry,  modern  philosophy,  and  then  naturally  modern  de- 
mocracy with  its  causes  and  tendencies.  Again,  as  at  Mel- 
bourne, I  perceived  that  in  respect  of  intellectual  eminence, 
the  mother  country  has  no  advantage  over  the  Colonies.  If 
Sir  James  Martin  had  been  Chief  Justice  of  England,  he 
would  have  passed  as  among  the  most  distinguished  occu- 
pants of  that  high  position  ;  and  I  should  say  that  the  Aus- 
tralian Colonies,  in  proportion  to  their  population,  have  more 
eminent  men  than  we  have.  The  English  race,  wherever  it 
is  planted,  is  of  the  same  natural  texture,  but  the  develop- 
ment depends  on  the  conditions  of  life  and  the  intellectual  at- 
mosphere. England  in  the  IGth  century  contained  greater 


The  Chief  Justice.  181 

statesmen,  greater  poets,  greater  seamen,  and  probably  greater 
lawyers  than  she  has  produced  at  any  time  since,  because  the 
nation  was  in  full  health,  and  was  occupied  with  great  sub- 
je3ts.  The  mental  occupations  of  the  Australian  colonists  are 
probably  much  of  the  same  sort  as  ours.  But  they  breathe 
a  freer  air.  The  material  race  of  life  is  less  severe,  and  they 
are  less  harassed  with  vulgar  anxieties.  If  intellect  is  the  eye 
of  the  mind  and,  like  the  eye,  is  good  or  bad  as  the  images 
which  it  forms  of  things  correctly  represent  the  truth  of  the 
things  themselves,  I  should  not  wonder  if  the  few  elect 
among  them  had  more  of  this  quality  than  we  have. 

Sir  James  Martin,  though  one  of  the  chief  persons  in  a  pro- 
gressive and  democratic  community,  did  not  seem  to  believe 
that  either  progress  or  democracy  was  about  to  work  any 
miracles  in  the  alteration  of  human  character.  They  had  to 
be  accepted  like  all  other  facts,  when  brought  on  by  the  nat- 
ure of  things,  but  were  not  therefore  either  to  be  particularly 
rejoiced  over,  or  particularly  hated.  On  the  whole,  democracy 
worked  like  galvanism  in  disintegrating  the  existing  condi- 
tions of  human  society  ;  but  human  society  occasionally  fell 
into  a  state  when  disintegration  could  not  be  helped.  Con- 
stitutional government  in  the  Colonies  was  full  of  anomalies. 
It  might  have  been  better  if,  instead  of  leaving  the  colonists 
to  govern  themselves,  we  had  been  careful  to  send  out  effici- 
ent governors,  who  would  have  attended  to  Colonial  opinion, 
and  ruled  firmly  with  no  consideration  of  anything  save  each 
Colony's  good.  A  monarchy  when  there  was  security  that  the 
monarch  himself  should  be  a  wise  man,  was  the  best  of  all 
forms  of  government.  But  as  things  stood  at  present,  this 
was  out  of  the  question.  As  long  as  the  Colonies  were  under 
the  authority  of  Downing  Street,  and  Downing  Street  was 
under  the  authority  of  the  British  Parliament,  it  was  impos- 
sible that  the  affairs  of  the  Colonies  would  receive  anything 
like  fair  and  impartial  consideration,  or  that  the  persons  se 


182  Oceana. 

lected  to  conduct  their  affairs  would  always  be  the  wisest  that 
could  be  found.  The  policy  which  would  be  adopted  would 
be  measured,  not  with  a  view  to  the  good  of  the  colony,  but 
to  party  advantage  at  home.  In  fact,  a  country  under  a  par- 
liament could  govern  itself  more  or  less  ill,  but  could  not  gov- 
ern other  countries,  and  the  system  had  to  end.  All  causes 
of  disagreement  between  the  mother  country  and  its  depen- 
dencies were  now  removed  ;  nothing  but  good -will  need  exist 
between  them,  and  the  closer  union  on  another  basis,  which 
so  many  practical  men  regard  as  a  dream,  Sir  James  seemed 
to  look  at  as  the  natural  outgrowth  of  our  present  relations. 
He  not  only  had  formed  considerable  hopes  that  confederation 
would  be  brought  about,  but  he  anticipated  that  it  might 
turn  to  the  spiritual  advantage  of  the  whole  of  us,  and  help 
to  disenchant  us  of  the  empty  wind  and  nonsense  to  which 
we  were  at  present  given  over.  So  long  as  '  progress,'  et 
csetera,  was  mere  talk,  it  was  contemptible,  but  might  be 
borne  with  ;  but  issuing  now  as  it  was  doing  in  Soudan  mas- 
sacres, Irish  anarchy,  and  a  second  Ireland  growing  in  South 
Africa,  it  deserved  the  hatred  and  indignation  of  all  serious 
men.  The  celebrated  person  whom  we  have  chosen  as  our 
chief  leader  and  representative  in  this  adventure  is  no  favour- 
ite in  Australia.  He  and  his  amazing  popularity  were  mere 
subjects  of  astonishment  to  Sir  James,  as  they  are,  so  far  as 
my  travels  extend,  wherever  the  British  language  is  spoken. 
Leaders  of  another  type  would  rule  in  a  United  Oceana. 

It  was  interesting  to  me  to  remember  where  I  was  sitting. 
It  was  democracy  which  had  brought  about  these  ugly  fea- 
tures— democracy,  which  had  invaded  all  other  departments 
of  the  State,  but  had  stopped  short  at  the  man-of-war.  On 
the  fleet  the  noisiest  demagogue  of  us  knew  that  our  salvation 
depended  ;  and  as  the  fleet  required  to  be  a  fact  which  would 
stand  hard  blows,  there  at  least  the  old  order  and  the  old 
principles  of  authority  were  allowed  to  remain.  A  ship  of 


The  Colonial  Navy.  183 

•war,  administered  on  elective  and  representative  principleSj 
would  not  be  a  dangerous  combatant.  There  would  perhaps 
be  a  corresponding  improvement,  if  a  nation  was  administered 
as  a  ship  of  war.  Such  England  once  was.  Such,  perhaps, 
she  will  one  day  be  again,  when  she  has  delivered  herself  from 
a  condition  in  which  a  majority  in  an  election  or  in  a  House 
of  Commons  division  is  exulted  over  as  a  victory  over  a  do- 
mestic enemy,  and  national  honour,  national  integrity,  even 
national  interest  are  second  to  the  triumph  of  party. 

The  admiral  spoke  to  me  afterwards  about  a  matter  of 
which  I  have  already  said  something  :  the  navy  or  navies  of 
the  colonies.  Indirect  overtures  seemed  to  have  been  made 
to  him  for  some  change  in  the  arrangements  now  existing. 
He  could  not  himself  entertain  these  overtures,  but  they  had 
been  referred  to  the  Admiralty  at  home,  and  the  matter  itself 
was  a  considerable  one.  The  Eussian  scare  was  not  yet  at 
the  acute  stage,  but  the  appearance  of  things  was  threatening. 
If  war  came,  Australia  would  be  exposed  to  serious  danger. 
The  colonists  were  anxious,  and  the  state  of  the  defences  both 
on  land  and  sea  was  not  at  all  satisfactory.  The  admiral  will 
have  given  his  own  views  to  the  home  authorities.  I  can  my- 
self only  explain  the  bearings  of  the  situation,  as  I  learnt  them 
from  general  conversation.  The  Colonial  Governments,  when 
started  on  their  own  account,  were  expected  to  provide  them- 
selves with  armed  vessels  adequate  to  their  own  defence,  which 
in  time  of  war  were  to  be  under  the  command  of  the  admiral 
of  the  station.  They  were  to  be  themselves  responsible  for 
the  equipment  and  maintenance  of  these  vessels  in  a  condition 
fit  for  service,  and  they  have  done,  perhaps,  all  that  it  was  in 
their  power  to  do.  We  have  ourselves  given  them  the  nucleus 
of  a  navy,  in  ships  which  we  could  afford  to  part  with.  They 
have  been  furnished  with  trained  officers  from  home.  Whether 
they  have  built  or  bought  ships  of  their  own  I  do  not  know. 
But  let  them  do  what  they  will,  they  have  enormous  difficul- 


184  Ocea/na. 

ties  to  contend  with.  In  countries  where  the  executive  is 
weak,  where  wages  are  high  and  the  demand  for  labour  so 
constant,  where  every  man  is  accustomed  to  be  his  own  master, 
and  unrestrained  liberty  is  a  special  privilege  of  their  present 
mode  of  existence,  it  is  almost  impossible  to  keep  efficient 
crews  together  and  maintain  the  necessary  discipline.  The 
naval  department  is  extremely  expensive  in  proportion  to  the 
results  which  it  can  achieve,  and  although  the  spirit  of  the  col- 
onists can  be  relied  upon  at  any  moment  of  emergency,  a 
squadron  fit  to  go  to  sea  cannot  be  extemporised  in  a  hurry. 
The  Colonial  Legislature  cannot  be  expected  to  spend  very 
large  sums  annually  on  a  service  which  in  time  of  peace  has 
no  duties  to  discharge.  The  consequence  is  that  the  ships, 
however  good  in  themselves,  are  not  and  cannot  be  kept  in 
readiness  for  immediate  action.  In  these  days  warnings  are 
short.  A  serious  danger,  it  is  morally  certain,  would  find 
every  one  of  our  great  colonies  unprepared  to  meet  it,  and 
the  duty  of  defending  the  colonial  ports — a  duty  which  could 
not  be  declined — would  fall,  after  all,  on  the  mother  country. 
The  colonists  are  generous  enough  to  feel  that  the  mother 
country  is  thus  not  treated  fairly.  It  is  a  state  of  things 
which  cannot  and  must  not  continue,  and  this  being  so,  the 
same  suggestion  had  been  made  (I  believe  by  responsible 
persons)  to  the  admiral  which  had  been  mentioned  to  me  at 
Adelaide  and  Melbourne,  that  the  colonies — the  Australian 
colonies  at  any  rate — should  make  an  estimate  of  the  present 
cost  of  their  ships,  and  pay  it  as  a  subsidy  to  the  British  Ad- 
miralty, on  condition  that  an  effective  squadron  or  squadrons 
should  be  kept  always  in  Australian  waters. 

In  addition  to  the  immediate  object  in  view,  the  security  of 
Sydney  and  Melbourne,  a  joint  interest  in  the  fleet  would  be 
a  long  step — so  long  that  another  would  hardly  be  needed — 
towards  Imperial  confederation.  The  cords  that  hold  Oceana 
together  may  be  slight  in  appearance  if  they  are  woven  of  sea- 


Sir  Alfred  Stephen.  185 

man's  hemp,  but.  no  hemp  is  better  spun  than  the  Admiralty 
ropes  with  the  reel  thread  at  their  heart.  The  union  with 
Australia  would  be  at  once  a  visible  fact,  and  that  in  a  form 
which  would  leave  no  opening  for  interference  with  colonial 
autonomy.  The  misgiving  in  New  South  Wales  was  that  the 
Imperial  Government,  being  committed  to  the  doctrinal  theory 
of  colonial  independence,  would  refuse  to  listen  to  the  pro- 
posal. I  do  not  know  whether  the  subject  has  yet  been 
brought  officially  before  either  the  Admiralty  or  the  Colonial 
Office,  or  how  many  of  the  colonies,  or  whether  any,  have  put 
their  wishes  into  formal  shape.  The  advances,  of  course,  must 
come  from  them.  The  expression  of  a  desire  on  our  part  for 
such  an  arrangement  would  be  construed  into  a  design  for 
levying  a  revenue  on  them,  and  woiild  be.  met  at  once  by  sus- 
picion and  jealousy.  The  act  must  be  their  own,  if  it  is  to 
take  effect  at  all.  We  have  given  them  free  control  of  their 
own  affairs,  and  it  is  not  for  us  to  ask  for  part  of  it  again. 
But,  in  my  own  poor  opinion,  if  the  Australian  colonies  do  of 
their  o\vu  free  accord  propose  such  conditions,  the  ministry 
responsible  for  rejecting  them  will  leave  a  sinister  record  of 
themselves  in  English  history. 

Many  gentlemen  were  good  enough  to  call  on  me  in  the 
next  few  days  ;  one  of  them,  Sir  Alfred  Stephen,  Deputy- 
Governor  of  the  Colony,  and  near  kinsman  of  our  own  distin- 
guished Sir  James.  Any  Stephen  could  not  fail  to  be  inter- 
esting. I  was  out  when  he  came  to  the  club,  but  I  returned 
his  visit  at  the  earliest  moment.  I  found  a  bright-eyed, 
humorous  old  man,  whose  intellect,  though  he  was  over 
eighty,  advanced  years  had  not  yet  begun  to  touch,  and 
whose  body  they  had  touched  but  lightly  ;  for  eye  and  cheek 
kept  their  colour,  and  the  step  was  still  elastic  and  the  voice 
keen  and  clear.  I  could  trace  no  resemblance  in  the  actual 
features  to  our  English  Stephens,  yet,  with  the  knowledge  of 
the  relationship,  I  fancied  a  likeness  of  expression,  and  cer- 


186  Oceana. 

tainly  in  mind  and  temper  there  was  very  great  likeness  in- 
deed. Sir  Alfred  was  not  given  to  sentimental  views  of  things. 
On  the  bench  he  was  famous  for  the  straightforward  view 
which  he  took  of  rogues.  '  The  law  is  far  too  indulgent  to 
such  people,'  he  said.  Yet  there  was  no  harshness  about  him, 
or  needless  severity.  He  had  the  family  perception  of  the 
ridiculous  and  humorous  side  of  things,  and  was  full  of  pity 
for  all  who  deserved  it  and  for  a  great  many  more  that  didn't. 
His  talk  with  me  was  most  amusing,  chiefly  on  his  old  Eng- 
lish recollections.  He  had  been  brought  up  in  the  '  Clap- 
ham  sect,'  and  had  known  their  chief  notabilities.  He  had 
himself  once  boxed  Sam  Wilberforce's  ears  for  impudence. 
He  remembered  old  Wilberforce  one  day  talking  intolerable 
nonsense,  and  a  great  uncle  of  his  who  was  unable  to  bear 
it,  breaking  a  couple  of  eggs  on  old  Wilberforce's  head.  He 
had  thought  much  on  serious  subjects.  Most  men's  minds 
petrify  by  middle  age,  and  are  incapable  of  new  impressions. 
Sir  Alfred's  mind  had  remained  fluid.  He  had  held  by  the 
Clapham  theory  of  things  tih1  he  found  the  bottom  break  out 
of  it.  He  had  afterwards  thought  for  himself.  '  What  some 
people  call  providence  and  I  call  accident,'  he  said,  speaking 
of  some  experience  in  his  own  life.  His  reputation  in  the 
colony  is  of  the  very  highest,  and  it  is  a  reputation  which  no 
one  envies  and  is  cheerfully  conceded.  If  you  ask  Syd- 
ney people  who  their  greatest  man  is,  nine  out  of  ten  of 
them  will  say  Stephen.  He  has  been  at  the  head  of  his 
own  profession  for  half  his  life  ;  he  has  filled  the  highest 
offices  in  the  colony,  and  has  been  universally  honoured 
and  respected.  The  family  will  not  die  out  in  New  South 
Wales.  He  has  several  sons,  all  of  whom  are  making  their 
way,  and  some  are  already  distinguished.  He  was  himself 
a  beautiful  old  man,  whom  it  was  a  delight  to  have  seen. 
Unhappily  it  was  but  once,  and  only  for  an  hour,  as  he  was 
called  off  on  business  to  Melbourne,  and  thought  as  little  of 


The  'Nelson?  187 

the  journey  of  400  miles  as  if  lie  had  been  starting  on  his  first 
circuit. 

Afterwards,  in  New  Zealand,  I  fell  in  with  a  brother  of  Sir 
Alfred's,  Mr.  Milner  Stephen,  also  a  very  noticeable  person. 
In  him  the  hereditary  spiritual  tendencies  had  drifted  into 
technical  spiritualism.  He  professed,  and  evidently  believed 
himself,  to  have  acquired  the  apostolic  power  of  working  mir- 
acles. He  was  willing  to  cure  you  of  any  disorder  whatever 
by  some  simple  methods,  which  he  was  ready  also  to  teach 
you  to  exercise  if  you  cared  to  learn  them — not,  of  course, 
gratuitously.  I  suppose  he  thought  that  those  who  ministered 
at  the  altar,  must  live  by  the  altar.  I  did  not  see  any  in- 
stance of  his  power,  but  his  look  and  manner  were  lively  and 
clever. 

Admiral  Tryon  was  most  hospitable.  The  '  Nelson '  was 
always  open  to  us  for  dinner,  luncheon,  and  on  Sunday  for 
service.  She  is  not  an  ironclad.  If  she  goes  into  action,  shot 
and  shell  will  find  free  passage  through  her  ;  but  she  is  a 
magnificent  ship  of  immense  beam,  and  a  fit  symbol  of  Eng- 
land's naval  greatness.  Sunday  afternoons  were  holidays. 
On  board,  the  seamen  were  off  duty  and  lay  about,  reading 
or  otherwise  amusing  themselves.  On  shore  there  was  the 
same  disposition  as  at  home  to  walk  or  lounge  in  the  parks  and 
gardens.  It  is  a  good  opportunity  for  seeing  the  Sydney  people 
at  their  average  best.  On  Sunday,  in  the  public  park,  I  saw 
a  number  of  black  groups,  gathered  as  with  us,  round  persons 
who  were  addressing  them.  I  went  from  group  to  group,  to 
hear  what  was  going  on.  It  was  Battersea  or  Hyde  Park  over 
again.  At  one  was  a  temperance  orator,  clamorous  for  local 
option  ;  at  another  a  '  nigger,'  eloquent  on  the  way  of  salva- 
tion ;  at  a  third  a  Wesleyan  minister  or  school  teacher  de- 
claiming on  the  same  subject.  The  crowd  listened  respect- 
fully, but  languidly,  brightening  up,  however,  when  the 
addresses  were  exchanged  for  one  of  Sankey's  hymns  One 


188  Oceana. 

thing  struck  me  especially,  both  here  and  at  Melbourne,  that 
there  was  no  provincialism,  either  formed  or  tending  to  form. 
One  county  in  England  differs  from  another  county.  Devon- 
shire has  one  voice  and  manner,  and  Yorkshire  another  voice 
and  manner.  The  Devonshire  man  and  the  Yorkshire  man 
can  scarcely  understand  each  other  when  they  are  eager  and 
fall  into  dialect.  The  Australians  speak  all  pure  English  as  it 
is  taught  in  schools.  There  are  no  local  distinctions  among 
themselves.  There  is  no  general  tone,  like  the  American, 
that  my  ear  could  detect.  I  could  not  tell  whether  to  be  pleased 
or  not  at  this.  On  the  one  side  it  showed  how  English  they 
yet  were  ;  on  the  other  it  indicated  that  they  were  still  in  the 
imitative  stage.  Original  force  and  vigour  always  tend  to 
make  a  form  for  themselves,  after  their  own  likeness. 

Though  I  care  less  for  places  than  for  people,  I  made  ex- 
cursions in  the  neighbourhood  of  Sydney  and  drove  over  the 
city  itself.  I  saw  the  villas  on  the  bay,  with  their  fairy-like 
gardens.  Invitations  were  kindly  sent  to  me  to  stay  in  vari- 
ous houses.  The  '  glory  of  hospitality,'  which  Camden  speaks 
of  as  in  his  time  decaying  in  England,  has  revived  among  the 
colonists.  They  are  proud  of  their  country  and  like  to  show 
it  off,  and  they  welcome  anyone  who  comes  to  them  from  the 
old  home.  I  had  many  persons  to  see,  however,  and  much  to 
do,  and  the  club  remained  my  headquarters.  Sydney  is  an- 
tique for  Australia  ;  it  is  nearly  a  hundred  years  old,  with  the 
foundations  of  it  laid  in  a  penal  settlement.  The  convict 
traces  have  long  disappeared,  but  you  can  see,  in  the  narrow 
and  winding  streets  in  the  business  quarter,  that  it  is  not  a 
modern  town,  which  has  been  built  mechanically  and  laid  out 
upon  a  plan,  but  that  it  has  grown  in  the  old  English  fashion. 
There  are  handsome  streets,  with  grand  fronts  and  arcades, 
and  there  are  lanes  and  alleys  as  in  London,  with  dull,  un- 
sightly premises,  where  nevertheless  active  business  is  going 
on.  Trees  are  planted  wherever  there  is  room  for  them,  and 


Growth  of  Sydney.  189 

there  is  ample  breathing  ground  in  the  parks.  After  various 
fortunes  trade  is  now  developing  with  extreme  rapidity,  and 
the  ambition  of  the  inhabitants  is  growing  along  with  it.  The 
tonnage  of  the  vessels  which  now  annually  enter  and  leave  the 
-  Port  of  Sydney  exceeds  the  tonnage  of  the  Thames  in  the  first 
year  of  our  present  queen.  As  in  London,  the  city  proper  on 
the  edge  of  the  harbour  is  given  up  to  warehouses,  commer- 
cial chambers  and  offices,  banks  and  public  buildings.  In  the 
daytime  it  is  thronged.  In  the  evening  the  hive  empties  itself, 
and  merchants,  clerks,  and  workmen  stream  away  by  railway  or 
ferry  to  their  suburban  houses.  Property  rises  fast  in  value,  and 
the  '  unearned  increment '  is  in  no  danger  from  Socialistic  pol- 
iticians. Capital  frightened  away  by  recent  experiments  from 
England  and  Ireland,  is  flowing  fast  into  these  countries,  and 
house  property  in  Sydney  is  being  sought  after  for  investment. 
I  examined  various  blocks  of  buildings  which  had  been  pur- 
chased recently  for  a  friend  of  my  own,  which  yield  him  now  six 
per  cent,  after  all  expenses  have  been  deducted,  and  must  inevi- 
tably grow  more  and  more  valuable.  The  houses  of  the  wealthy 
and  moderately  wealthy  classes  are  solid  and  well-looking.  The 
working  people,  who  in  late  years  have  flocked  into  the  place 
in  such  numbers,  are  accommodated  in  more  makeshift  fashion. 
Whole  villages  have  sprung  up  lately  in  the  environs,  made  of 
mere  boards  and  corrugated  iron,  slatternly  sheds  rather  than 
human  habitations,  and  without  the  plantations  and  flowers 
about  them  which  had  been  universal  in  Victoria.  But  this 
is  perhaps  a  temporary  accident  which  a  few  more  years  will 
mend. 

We  went  out  one  day  to  Paramatta,  the  original  seat  of  the 
government  when  Sydney  wns  no  more  than  a  landing-place. 
It  is  a  strange  mixture  of  old  and  new — walls  and  gables  of 
English  manor-houses  of  the  type  of  the  last  century,  with  big 
gateways  and  oak  avenues,  the  oaks  the  largest  that  I  had 
seen  in  Australia  ;  the  spot  still  shown  where  an  over-rash 


190  Oceana. 

governor,  driving  four-in-hand,  upset  his  carriage  and  killed 
his  lady.  Antiquarian  interests  of  this  kind  stand  side  by  side 
•with  painted  and  gilded  modern  streets,  telling  of  money- 
making  and  what  is  called  enterprise. 

The  Paramatta  river  is. navigable  as  far  as  the  town.  The 
site  was  chosen  for  the  '  Residence,'  I  suppose,  for  the  same 
reason  which,  Thucydides  says,  led  the  Greeks  to  build  their 
cities  up  creeks  and  inlets — to  be  safe  from  visits  from  priva- 
teers. Buccaneers  are  gone  ;  the  successors  of  Kidd  and 
Blackman  now  work  in  stealthier  waya  Paramatta  has  sunk 
into  a  suburb  of  Sydney,  and  the  river  is  now  chiefly  famous 
as  the  scene  of  the  champion  boat-races.  We  had  gone  out 
by  rail ;  we  returned  in  a  steamer.  The  stream  at  the  head 
of  the  tideway  is  about  the  breadth  of  the  Thames  at  Rich- 
mond, and  of  a  dirty  brown  colour,  like  most  of  the  Aus- 
tralian rivers,  from  the  alluvial  soil  which  they  bring  down. 
The  banks  were  at  first  low  and  swampy,  fringed  with  some 
kind  of  willow,  with  high  wooded  hills  behind,  which  as  we 
descended  came  nearer  to  the  river,  and  at  last  on  one  side 
touched  it,  rising  picturesquely  out  of  the  water  which  opened 
into  a  wide  estuary.  The  scene  was  pretty  enough.  Cranes 
and  other  waders  stalked  about  the  mud-flats.  Cottages  ap- 
peared on  the  slopes  with  orchards  and  vineyards.  We 
stopped  at  some  platform  every  mile,  where  brightly  dressed 
women  and  children  came  on  board,  with  grapes  and  fruit  for 
the  Sydney  market.  On  long,  wooded  peninsulas,  large 
houses  began  to  show  among  the  trees,  some  of  them  rising 
to  the  dignity  of  '  places,'  or  even  palaces  ;  the  utterly  wild 
and  the  utterly  civilised  brought  close  together,  fancy  pleas- 
ure-grounds adjoining  the  primitive  jungle.  The  Sydney 
people  are  much  given  to  picnics.  In  one  of  the  wildest  spots 
we  came  on  two  steamer-loads  of  young  gentlemen  and  ladies 
who  had  landed,  and  were  scattered  about  in  pairs,  the  pink 
parasols  and  green  and  blue  dresses  shining  among  the  rocks 


Australian  Temperament.  191 

and  bushes,  the  artificial  flowers  of  modern  society  dropped 
strangely  into  the  primaeval  forest. 

All  human  beings  have  their  deficiencies.  The  deficiency 
of  the  Sydney  colonists  is  one  which  they  share  at  present 
with  a  large  part  of  the  civilised  world — that  they  have  no 
severe  intellectual  interests.  They  aim  at  little,  except  what 
money  will  buy  ;  and  to  make  money  and  buy  enjoyment  with 
it  is  the  be-all  and  the  end-all  of  their  existence.  They  are 
courteous  and  polite,  as  well  to  one  another  as  to  strangers, 
in  a  degree  not  common  in  democracies.  They  are  ener- 
getic in  bringing  out  the  material  wealth  of  the  soil.  They 
have  churches  and  schools  and  a  university,  and  they  talk  and 
think  much  of  education,  &c.  They  study  sanitary  questions, 
and  work  hard  to  improve  the  health  of  their  city,  and  to 
keep  their  bay  unpolluted.  They  are  tunnelling  out  a  gigan- 
tic sewer  through  several  miles  of  rock  and  clay,  to  carry  the 
refuse  of  the  town  to  the  open  ocean.  But  it  is  only  to  con- 
quer the  enemies  of  material  comfort,  that  their  own  lives  may 
be  bright  and  pleasant.  '  Woe  to  those  that  are  at  ease  in 
Zion  ! '  the  prophet  cried.  Was  this  the  language  of  a  true 
seer?  or  the  complaint  of  a  sour  dyspeptic,  Avho  grudged  to 
others  the  enjoyment  denied  to  himself  ?  It  is  hard  to  quar- 
rel with  men  who  only  wish  to  be  innocently  happy.  And 
out  of  this  very  wish  there  is  growing  a  taste  for  art  which 
in  time  may  come  to  something  considerable.  They  have  a 
picture  gallery,  of  considerable  merit.  Mr.  Montefiore  (a  re- 
lation of  Sir  Moses)  took  me  to  see  it.  There  are  many  good 
water-colour  sketches  of  Australian  scenery  by  Sydney  artists, 
one  or  two  fair  oil  landscapes,  with  an  admirable  collection  of 
engravings  and  casts  from  the  finest  classical  works.  I  es- 
pecially admired  a  set  of  drawings  which  showed  real  geniua 
I  inquired  for  the  hand  which  had  executed  them,  and  I  learnt, 
to  my  surprise,  that  it  was  Mr.  Montefiore's  own.  He  had 
been  modestly  silent  about  his  own  accomplishments,  and 


192  Oceana. 

only  my  accidental  question  bad  led  him  to  speak  of  himsel£ 
Yet  with  the  exception  of  two  or  three  leading  lawyers  and 
the  more  eminent  statesmen,  there  were  no  persons  that  I 
met  with  who  showed  much  concern  about  the  deeper  spirit- 
ual problems,  in  the  resolution  of  wbich  alone  man's  life  rises 
into  greatness.  They  have  had  one  poet — Gordon,  something 
too  much  of  the  Guy  Livingstone  type,  an  inferior  Byron,  a 
wild  rider,  desperate,  dissipated,  but  with  gleams  of  a  most 
noble  nature  shining  through  the  turbid  atmosphere.  He, 
poor  fellow,  hungering  after  what  Austrah'a  could  not  give 
him — what  perhaps  no  country  on  earth  at  present  could  give 
him — had  nothing  to  do  but  to  shoot  himself,  which  he  ac- 
cordingly did.  Our  stepmother  Nature  grudges  to  individuals 
and  to  nations  too  unbroken  prosperity.  She  has  a  whip  for 
the  backs  of  most  of  us  and  insists  on  our  learning  lessons 
which  nothing  but  suffering  will  teach.  Left  wholly  to  them- 
selves to  work  out  their  own  destiny,  the  Australian  colonies 
might  have  to  fight  for  their  liberties  against  invaders,  or,  as 
most  other  mutually  independent  communities  living  side  by 
side  have  done,  might  fall  out  among  themselves.  Ambitious 
men  would  force  their  way  to  the  front,  aspire  to  dictatorship, 
or  covet  their  neighbours'  territories.  Nations  are  but  en- 
larged schoolboys.  The  smallest  trifle  will  bring  about  a 
quarrel  between  rival  adjoining  states,  as  long  as  it  is  unde- 
cided which  of  them  is  the  strongest.  It  has  always  been  so 
from  the  Greek  democracies  to  the  Italian  republics  or  the 
Spanish  states  in  modern  South  America.  Or,  again,  they 
would  have  their  war  of  classes,  their  internal  revolutions, 
their  dreams  of  a  millennium  to  be  brought  about  by  political 
convulsions.  These  are  Nature's  methods  of  disciplining  hu- 
man character  and  bringing  us  to  know  that  life  is  not  all  a 
holiday.  Out  of  such  struggles  great  men  have  risen  and 
great  nations,  and,  so  far  as  we  know,  greatness  cannot  be 
purchased  at  any  lower  price.  For  the  English  colonies  there 


Exceptional  Conditions.  193 

is  no  such  school  yet  opened,  nor  while  they  remain  attached 
to  us  on  the  present  terms  can  such  a  school  ever  be  opened. 

Fortunati  minium  sua,  si  bona  norint. 

We  must  ourselves  be  a  broken  power  before  a  stranger  can 
invade  Australia  or  New  Zealand.  Revolutions  and  internal 
wars  are  not  permitted  to  them  as  long  as  they  are  British 
dependencies.  They  have  no  foreign  policy,  no  diplomatists, 
no  intercourse  with  the  political  circles  in  other  parts  of  the 
world,  to  call  out  their  intellect  or  extend  their  interests  be- 
yond their  own  shores.  For  the  immortal  part  of  them,  con- 
cern for  which  in  other  ages  has  raised  peasants  into  heroes 
and  students  into  saints — as  to  this  they  are  no  better  off 
than  the  rest  of  us.  Religion  has  become  a  matter  of  opinion, 
a  thing  about  which  nothing  certain  can  be  known,  and  on 
which,  therefore,  it  is  idle  and  unbecoming  to  be  dogmatic  or 
violent.  Individuals  have  their  personal  convictions,  strong 
enough  and  sincere  enough  to  make  their  lives  holy  and  beau- 
tiful ;  but  Church  and  creed  have  ceased  to  be  factors  in  the 
commonwealth.  The  laws  by  which  we  regulate  the  conduct 
of  our  affairs  are  learnt  from  earthly  experience,  and  would  be 
equally  necessary  and  equally  expedient  if  we  were  conscious- 
ly and  avowedly  without  notions  of  religion  at  all  A  faith 
for  which  men  were  ready  to  sacrifice  life  and  fortune  was  pow- 
erful to  fill  their  existence,  and  give  dignity  to  any  position 
and  any  occupation.  Our  beliefs  no  longer  exercise  such  an 
all-absorbing,  all-pervading  influence.  The  serious  side  of 
our  nature  requires  other  objects  both  for  contemplation  and 
for  action,  if  it  is  not  to  rust  in  us  unused ;  and  in  this  re- 
spect, and  for  the  present,  we  have  the  colonists  at  advantage ; 
we  have  our  national  concerns  to  look  after,  and  our  national 
risks  to  run,  and  therefore  our  thoughts  and  anxieties  are  en- 
larged. They  have  none  of  these  interests ;  their  situation 
does  not  allow  it.  They  will  have  good  lawyers  among 
13 


194  Oceana. 

them,  good  doctors,  good  men  of  science,  engineers,  mer- 
chants, manufacturers,  as  the  Romans  had  in  the  decline  of 
the  Empire.  But  of  the  heroic  type  of  man,  of  whom  poets 
will  sing  and  after  ages  be  anxious  to  read,  there  will  not  be 
so  many,  when  the  generation  is  gone  which  was  born  and 
bred  in  the  old  world.  Such  men  are  not  wanted,  and  would 
have  no  work  cut  out  for  them.  Happy,  it  is  often  said,  the 
country  which  has  no  history.  Growing  nations  may  pass 
their  childhood  in  obscurity  and  amusement,  but  tbe  neutral 
condition  cannot  last  for  ever.  They  must  emerge  out  of  it 
in  some  way,  or  they  might  as  well  never  have  existed.  The 
rising  Australians  are  '  promising  young  men.'  If  they  mean 
to  be  more,  they  must  either  be  independent,  or  must  be 
citizens  of  Oceana. 

Meanwhile  party  followed  party,  and  we  had  more  invita- 
tions than  we  could  accept  One  evening  we  dined  with  Sir 
Wigram  Allen,  the  late  Speaker  in  the  House  of  Assembly,  a 
man  of  vast  wealth,  one  of  the  millionaires  of  Sydney.  His 
house,  three  miles  out  of  town,  was  like  the  largest  and  most 
splendid  of  the  Putney  or  Roehampton  villas.  There  was  a 
large  gathering  of  distinguished  people,  legal  and  political 
magnates,  ladies  dressed  as  well,  perhaps  as  expensively,  as 
the  ladies  of  New  York,  some  of  them  witty,  all  pretty,  and 
one  or  two  more  than  pretty.  The  cuisine  would  have  done 
credit  to  the  Palais  Royal.  The  conversation  was  smart,  .a 
species  of  an  intellectual  lawn  tennis  which  the  colonists  play 
well.  There  were  as  many  attendants  as  you  would  find  in  a 
great  house  at  home,  with  the  only  difference  that  they  wore 
no  livery.  Liveries  might,  indeed,  as  well  be  dropped  every- 
where. They  are  a  relic  of  feudalism,  when  the  vassal  wore 
his  lord's  colours.  In  democratic  communities,  where  there 
are  no  vassals,  and  a  lord's  coronet  is  often  a  fool's  cap,  they 
are  exotics  which  can  be  dispensed  with  ;  and,  indeed,  no 
man  with  a  respect  for  himself,  and  with  no  further  connec- 


.     Dinner  Parties.  195 

tion  with  his  master  than  a  contract  to  do  certain  services, 
hanging  at  so  loose  an  end  that  he  may  be  hired  one  month 
and  dismissed  the  next,  ought  to  submit  to  be  dressed  like  a 
parrot.  In  Australia,  any  way,  they  have  parrots  enough  in 
the  woods,  and  do  not  introduce  them  into  their  households. 
Sir  Henry  Parkes  was  among  the  guests,  and  the  editor  of 
the  Sydney  paper  to  whom  he  had  before  introduced  me.  I 
found  the  latter  a  man  of  superior  education,  correct  in  all 
his  thoughts,  right-minded  even  to  the  extent  of  rigidity, 
but  wanting  in  lightness,  and  taking  all  subjects  on  their 
solemn  side.  The  person  whom  I  liked  best  was  Lady  Allen's 
father,  a  beautiful  old  clergyman  of  eighty-two,  who  told  me 
that  he  had  read  all  my  books,  that  he  disapproved  deeply  of 
much  that  he  had  found  in  them,  but  that  he  had  formed, 
notwithstanding,  a  sort  of  regard  for  the  writer.  He  followed 
me  into  the  hall  when  we  went  away,  and  gave  me  his  bless- 
ing. Few  gifts  have  ever  been  bestowed  on  me  in  this  world 
which  I  have  valued  more.  Sir  Wigram  Allen,  I  regret  to 
see,  is  since  dead ;  the  life  and  spirits  which  were  flowing 
over  so  freely  that  night,  all  now  quenched  and  silent !  He 
could  not  have  had  a  better  friend  near  him  at  the  moment  of 
departure  than  that  venerable  old  man. 

Another  evening  we  dined  with  the  Chief  Justice.  Mr. 
Dalley  was  present,  and  several  distinguished  members  of 
the  Sydney  bench  and  bar.  There  were  no  ladies.  -Lawyers 
are  always  good  company.  They  have  large  experience  of 
life,  and  endless  entertaining  anecdotes.  They  are  mainly 
occupied  with  the  questionable  side  of  human  nature,  but  on 
the  whole  take  a  genial  view  of  it.  In  the  hardest  stone,  in 
the  muddiest  clay,  there  are  often  veins  of  gold.  The  lawyer 
neither  hates  men  nor  particularly  loves  them,  but  takes  them 
as  they  are  and  understands  them.  Priests  in  Catholic 
countries  who  receive  many  confessions  acquire  a  similar 
tolerance.  You  cannot  hear  acknowledgments  of  immorah"- 


196  Oceana. 

ties  day  after  day  from  the  most  unexpected  quarters  and 
fall  into  convulsions  of  distress  over  them.  A  fervent  convert 
once  told  me  that  the  Church  was  the  only  body  which  un- 
derstood how  to  treat  sin  therapeutically. 

The  more  I  saw  of  Sir  James  Martin  the  more  I  esteemed 
and  admired  him.  His  face  is  full  of  humour.  His  manner  is 
bright  and  rapid.  He  has  been  a  great  official,  but  the  man 
is  more.  If  there  was  an  interchange,  as  there  ought  to  be, 
between  the  mother  country  and  the  colonies,  in  the  promo- 
tion and  employment  of  their  eminent  men,  Sir  James  would 
be  as  well  known  and  as  much  valued  in  London  as  he  now 
is  in  New  South  Wales. 

Mi*.  Dalley  was  preoccupied  and  talked  but  little.  His 
conversation  is  usually  careless  and  brilliant.  That  evening, 
to  my  regret,  he  sat  silent.  The  anxieties  of  the  Suakin  ex- 
pedition were  apparently  weighing  upon  him,  and  it  was 
quite  right  that  they  should.  He  was  doing  a  considerable 
thing,  with  far-reaching  consequences  for  good  or  evil.  No 
one  could  say  which  it  would  be.  Mr.  Dalley  was  risking  his 
position  and  his  reputation  for  what  he  conceived  to  be  the 
good  of  his  country  ;  and  we  live  in  days  when  to  run  risks 
for  anything  except  our  own  advantage  is  far  from  common, 
and  when  ventured  is  still  more  rarely  understood.  Political 
critics  who  are  not  conscious  of  such  impulses  in  themselves 
are  impatient  of  the  pretence  of  them  in  others.  They  sus- 
pect always  that  behind  the  alleged  patriotic  motive  there  lies 
a  sinister  personal  motive.  We  interpret  other  people's 
natures  by  what  we  know  of  our  own ;  and  public  men,  if 
they  would  be  safe,  must  keep  to  the  common  level  and  ven- 
ture nothing  which  cannot  be  interpreted  by  the  average 
selfishness.  The  expedition  went,  and  has  returned.  So  far 
as  its  immediate  object  went  it  accomplished  nothing,  for  it 
arrived  only  in  time  to  see  the  war  abandoned.  If  in  its 
higher  aspect,  as  an  exhibition  of  the  affectionate  feeling  of 


Mr.  DaUetfs  Policy.  197 

the  Australians  to  the  mother  country,  it  continues  to  be  re- 
membered and  appreciated  in  England,  it  has  accomplished 
an  end  in  comparison  with  which  the  war  was  nothing,  and 
it  may  prove  the  seed  of  innumerable  benefits.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  there  comes  of  it  only  polite  words  of  meaning- 
less applause,  and  then  oblivion,  Mr.  Dalley's  patriotism  will 
have  spent  itself  in  vain. 


198  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

Visit  to  Moss  Vale — Lord  Augustus  Loftus— Position  of  a  Governor  in 
New  South  Wales — Lady  Augustus — Chinese  servants — English 
newspapers — Dinner-party  conversations — A  brave  and  true  bishop 
— Sydney  harbour  once  more — Conversation  with  Mr.  Dalley  on  Im- 
perial Federation — Objections  to  proposed  schemes — The  Navy — 
The  English  flag. 

LATE  hours,  fine  cooking,  and  agreeable  society  are  very 
pleasant,  but  less  wholesome  than  one  could  wish  them  to  be. 
The  town  became  insufferably  hot.  My  mosquito- bites  re- 
fused to  heal,  and  some  change  was  desirable.  The  Gov- 
ernor, who  had  already  asked  me  to  visit  him  in  his  highland 
quarters,  graciously  renewed  his  invitation.  His  aide-de- 
camp assured  me  that  it  was  meant  in  earnest,  and  that  Lord 
Augustus  Loftus  would  be  disappointed  if  we  left  the  country 
without  seeing  him,  so  we  agreed  to  go. 

Moss  Vale,  the  summer  residence  of  the  Governor  of  New 
South  Wales,  is  a  hundred  miles  from  Sydney.  Why  it  is 
called  Vale  I  do  not  know,  for  it  stands  on  the  brow  of  an 
eminence  two  thousand  feet  above  the  sea.  It  corresponds 
to  Mount  Macedon  in  Victoria,  save  that,  instead  of  being  in 
the  midst  of  forests,  it  is  surrounded  with  rolling  grassy 
uplands,  thickly  sprinkled  with  trees,  sheep,  and  cattle-farms, 
&c.,  and  long  ago  taken  up  and  appropriated.  The  house 
has  been  lately  purchased  by  the  colony  for  the  Governor's 
use.  It  is  small,  considering  the  dignity  of  its  destination, 
and  is  unfinished  within  and  without.  Like  all  other  coun- 


Lord  Augustus  Loftus.  199 

try  places  in  Australia,  it  is  well  protected  by  plantations. 
Pines  and  fruit-trees  grow  with  great  rapiditj',  and  when  an 
Australian  means  to  build  a  house,  his  first  step  is  to  sow 
acorns  and  fir-cones.  To  those  who  were  fond  of  riding,  the 
situation  of  Moss  Vale  was  perfect,  as  the  green  turf  stretched 
out  into  infinity.  Otherwise  in  the  locality  itself  there  was 
little  to  interest.  The  change  of  climate  was  delightful.  It 
was  like  passing  from  the  tropics  to  the  temperate  zone.  But 
Lord  Augustus  himself  was  the  chief  attraction.  The  rail- 
way brought  us  within  five  miles  of  the  place,  and  we  found 
a  carnage  waiting  there  to  take  us  on.  I  had  known  a 
brother  of  Lord  Augustus  long  ago  ;  himself  I  had  never 
fallen  in  with.  I  found  him  sitting  under  the  trees  at  the 
door  of  a  tent,  which  served  as  a,  retreat  in  hot  weather  ;  a 
most  gracious,  courtier-like  old  gentleman,  nearer  perhaps  to 
seventy  than  sixty.  He  had  been  employed  from  early  youth 
in  the  diplomatic  service.  He  had  been  ambassador  at  St. 
Petersburg,  at  Vienna,  at  Berlin.  He  had  been  intimate  with 
the  three  great  emperors.  He  had  been  in  daily  intercourse 
with  Bismarck,  Gortschakoff,  Andrassy.  His  occupation  had 
been  with  the  higher  politics  of  Europe,  and  his  private  life 
had  been  passed  in  the  most  accomplished,  wittiest,  and 
worldliest  society  to  be  met  with  at  present  on  the  globe.  It 
was  a  strange  fate  which  sent  such  a  man  in  his  old  days  to 
preside  over  a  constitutional  colony,  in  the  midst  of  men 
whose  aims,  interests,  and  ways  of  thinking  must  have  been 
absolutely  unknown  to  him  ;  members,  all  of  them,  of  the 
great  British  middle  class,  with  whom,  neither  on  the  Con- 
tinent nor  at  home,  he  was  ever  likely  to  have  been  thrown. 
Those  who  have  lived  in  courts  have  learned  to  breathe  the 
air  of  courts,  and  their  lungs  are  fitted  for  no  other.  Lord 
Augustus  in  New  South  Wales  might  easily  have  been  as  ill 
off  as  Ovid  found  himself  in  Thrace. 


200  Oceana. 

But  a  trained  and  sensible  man  is  not  long  at  a  loss,  what- 
ever be  the  situation  in  which  he  finds  himself.  Lord  Augustus 
accepted  his  destiny  and  loyally  conformed  to  it.  He  had  not, 
perhaps,  found  his  work  particularly  congenial.  But  with  his 
knowledge  of  men  he  could  not  fail  to  discern  the  essential 
worth  of  the  politicians  by  whom  he  was  surrounded  ;  and  a 
far  feebler  imagination  would  have  been  struck  with  the  work 
which  the  English  race  was  carrying  through  in  the  Colony. 
At  the  time  when  he  was  sent  out,  the  theory  was  still  in  fash- 
ion among  leading  statesmen  that  the  connection  with  the 
Colonies  was  wearing  out  and  was  soon  to  be  severed  ;  and 
so  long  as  the  impression  prevailed,  a  far-off  settlement  could 
not  be  looked  upon  as  an  organic  part  of  England.  Lord  Au- 
gustus might  regret  a  policy  which  outside  the  circle  of  the 
Economic  Radicals  appeared  as  unwise  as  it  was  ungracious.  It 
was  a  policy  which  he  was  not  required  to  promote  actively 
either  by  word  or  deed.  His  duty  was  to  be  guided  by  his 
constitutional  advisers,  and  no  one  had  complained  that  he  had 
transgressed  the  lines  laid  down  for  him.  But  the  position 
wtis  not  an  exciting  one  ;  the  change  from  the  Cabinets  of 
Ministers  who  were  deciding  the  fate  of  nations  to  the  local 
interests  of  a  remote  dependency  was  almost  ridiculous  ;  and 
if  New  South  Wales  and  the  other  Australian  provinces  were 
so  near  to  their  final  separation  from  us,  if  they  were  held  to 
be  of  so  little  value  that  their  departure  from  the  parent  nest 
would  be  rather  a  relief  than  a  loss,  the  Governor  could  be  no 
more  than  a  spectator  of  the  development  of  a  community  in 
which  he  had  but  a  transitory  concern. 

Of  late,  however,  there  had  been  a  revulsion  of  feeling  at 
home.  The  attachment  of  the  Colonies  had  been  proof  against 
the  hints  and  exhortations  to  take  themselves  away.  The 
anti-colonial  policy  had  been  confined  after  all  to  a  school  of 
doctrinaires,  and  the  English  people  became  acquainted  with 


Lord  Augustus  Loftus.  201 

the  evil  intentions  of  these  gentlemen  only  to  repudiate  them 
with  indignation.  A  candidate  for  Parliament  had  found 
that  to  win  or  keep  his  seat  he  must  stand  up  for  Imperial 
unity,  and  the  discovery  had  worked  a  wholesome  revolution 
in  the  views  of  many  aspiring  Liberals.  Mr.  Dalley's  action 
in  the  dispatch  of  the  contingent,  and  the  recognition  which 
it  had  met  with,  had  improved  the  chances  still  further,  and 
Lord  Augustus  had  begun  to  take  a  deeper  interest  in  the 
fortunes  of  his  temporary  subjects.  He  could  now  talk  about 
Australia  eagerly  and  hopefully.  He  had  studied  its  history, 
he  knew  its  resources  ;  he  could  estimate  the  probable  future 
of  the  Australian  Colonies  themselves,  and  perceive  the  enor- 
mous and  indefinite  strength  which  they  must  add  eventually 
to  the  British  Empire  if  they  remained  a  part  of  it.  He  un- 
derstood— none  could  understand  better — how  the  influence 
of  England  was  no  longer  what  it  had  been  in  European  poli- 
tics. If  England  was  '  effaced '  as  the  saying  went,  it  was  be- 
cause she  was  effacing  herself.  Germans,  Russians,  Americans 
were  adding  yearly  to  their  numbers,  and  they  had  boundless 
territory  in  which  millions  could  mature  into  wholesome  man- 
hood. England  might  add  to  her  numbers,  but  to  her  an  in- 
creasing population  was  not  strength  but  weakness.  England 
was  already  full  to  overflowing,  and  by  taking  thought  could 
add  no  acre  to  the  area  which  nature  had  assigned  to  her  ;  she 
had  her  colonies,  and  in  her  colonies  she  had  soil,  air,  climate, 
all  she  needed  to  eclipse  every  rival  that  envied  her  ;  but  she 
was  flinging  them  away  in  disdainful  negligence,  or  alienating 
them  as  she  had  alienated  Ireland,  and  the  fate  before  her 
was  to  dwindle  away  into  a  second  Holland.  These  were  the 
anticipations  which  Lord  Augustus  had  seen  growing  in  the 
minds  of  the  keen-eyed  Continental  statesmen,  and  now  it 
seemed  as  if  they  might  be  disappointed  after  alL  Mr.  Dalley's 
action  might  prove  the  first  active  step  towards  the  reversal 


202  Oceana. 

of  a  policy  which  had  it  continued  a  few  years  longer  would 
have  undone  us  for  ever. 

It  was  pleasant  to  talk  the  subject  over  with  an  old  diplo- 
mat, who  like  Ulysses,  '  had  been  in  many  cities  and  known 
the  thoughts  of  many  men.'  These  experienced  old  stagers 
see  further  and  wider  than  English  parliamentary  politicians, 
for  it  is  the  very  nature  of  '  party '  that  party  leaders  shall 
never  see  things  as  they  really  are,  but  only  as  they  affect  for 
the  moment  the  interests  of  one  section  of  the  community. 
They  are  as  men  who  having  two  eyes  given  them  by  nature, 
deliberately  extinguish  one.  There  is  the  point  of  view  from 
the  'right '  and  the  point  of  view  from  the  'left,'  and  from 
each,  from  the  nature  and  necessity  of  the  case,  only  half  the 
truth  can  be  seen.  A  wise  man  keeps  both  his  eyes,  belongs 
to  no  party,  and  can  see  things  as  they  are. 

The  share  in  the  official  duties  which  fell  to  Lady  Augustus 
was,  perhaps,  heavier  than  her  husband's.  He,  as  a  man  of 
the  world,  could  accommodate  himself  to  any  circumstances 
and  any  persons,  and  as  soon  as  Colonial,  politics  put  on  a 
grander  character  he  could  find  pleasure  and  honour  in  being 
associated  with  their  expanding  aims.  On  her  fell  the  obli- 
gation of  giving  balls  and  dinners,  of  entertaining  the  mis- 
cellaneous multitude  which  constitutes  Sydney  society  ;  and 
there  are  some  women,  and  those  perhaps  of  finest  quality,  to 
whom  the  presiding  in  public  ceremonies  of  this  kind,  in  any 
sphere  and  among  any  kind  of  guests,  is  naturally  uncon- 
genial. Lady  Augustus  was  (and  is)  a  woman  whose  intel- 
lectual powers  have  been  cultivated  into  unusual  excellence. 
The  finest  pictures  in  the  drawing-room  at  Government 
House  were  her  work.  There  was  one  especially  which  I 
saw — a  group  of  seamen  on  a  raft  in  the  ocean  catching  sight 
of  a  distant  sail,  which — so  admirable  it  was,  both  in  concep- 
tion and  execution — would  have  made  a  sensation  in  the 


The   Vice- Queen.  233 

Royal  Academy  Exhibition.  But  she  had  lived  in  another 
world.  In  her  youth  she  must  have  been  strikingly  hand- 
some. Now  she  had  sons  grown  to  manhood,  and  out  in  the 
world  in  various  professions.  She  had  delicate  health,  and  it 
was  late  in  life  for  her  to  take  up  with  a  new  round  of  inter- 
ests. She  was  admired  and  respected  in  the  Colony,  but  her 
stately  manners  alarmed  more  than  they  attracted,  and  I 
could  easily  believe  when  I  was  told  of  it  that  she  was  not 
generally  popular.  The  few  who  could  see  through  the  re- 
serve into  the  nature  which  lay  below  would  delight  in  being 
admitted  into  intimacy  with  her.  But  vice-queens  (and  the 
Governor  is  a  ^uasi-sovereign)  cannot  have  intimates.  They 
are  expected  to  be  universally  gracious,  and  universal  gra- 
ciousness  is  perhaps  only  possible  to  the  insincere,  or  the 
commonplace,  or  to  the  supremely  great  and  fortunate. 

In  her  own  house  and  to  her  private  guests  Lady  Augustus 
was  a  most  charming  hostess.  In  her  charge  I  was  driven 
round  the  neighbourhood,  saw  interesting  stations,  farms, 
country  houses,  and  country  neighbours  ;  but  her  own  con- 
versation was  always  the  best  part  of  the  entertainment.  One 
morning  at  breakfast  she  amused  us  with  an  account  of  a 
young  Chinaman  who  was  employed  in  the  garden.  In  New 
South  Wales  there  would  soon  be  as  many  Chinese  as  there 
are  in  San  Francisco,  if  they  were  encouraged  to  settle  there. 
They  are  quiet,  patient,  industrious,  never  give  any  trouble, 
and  if  the  prejudices  against  them  could  only  be  got  over, 
would  be  useful  in  a  thousand  ways.  But  one  never  knows 
exactly  what  is  inside  a  Chinaman.  His  face  has  no  change 
of  expression.  He  smiles  at  you  always  '  with  the  smile  that 
is  childlike  and  bland'  ;  and  remembering  'Ah  Sin  '  and  the 
packs  of  cards  concealed  in  his  sleeve,  one  fears  always  that 
the  '  Heathen  Chinee  '  is  the  true  account  of  him,  and  that  he 
has  no  immortal  soul  at  all.  Be  this  as  it  may,  however,  he 


204  Oceana. 

is  the  best  of  servants,  especially  in  garden  work,  for  which 
he  has  an  inborn  genius.  There  were  several  Chinese  em- 
ployed in  the  garden  at  Moss  Vale.  One  of  them,  a  lad  of 
twenty,  was  an  especial  favourite.  The  lady  told  us  that 
morning  that  this  particular  youth  had  announced  that  he 
must  leave.  She  had  inquired  the  reason.  "Were  his  wages 
too  small  ?  was  he  dissatisfied  with  his  work  ?  &c.  He  was 
dissatisfied  with  nothing.  The  reason  was  merely  that  his 
uncle  had  arrived  in  the  colony.  He  must  be  with  his  uncle. 
If  his  uncle  could  be  taken  into  the  Governor's  service  he 
would  stay  ;  if  not  he  must  go.  We  all  laughed.  It  seemed 
so  odd  to  us  that  a  Chinaman  should  have  an  uncle,  or,  if  he 
had,  should  know  it  and  be  proud  of  him.  But  why  was  it 
odd  ?  or  what  was  there  to  laugh  at  ?  On  thinking  it  over,  I 
concluded  that  it  was  an  admission  that  a  Chinaman  was  a 
human  being.  Dogs  and  horses  have  sires  and  dams,  but 
they  have  no  'uncles.'  An  uncle  is  a  peculiarly  human  rela- 
tionship. And  the  heathen  Chinee  had  thus  unconsciously 
proved  that  he  had  a  soul,  and  was  a  man  and  a  brother — a 
man  and  a  brother — in  spite  of  the  Yankees  who  admit  the 
nigger  to  be  their  fellow-citizen,  but  will  not  admit  the  China- 
man. 

In  my  travels  I  avoided  newspapers,  Engh'sh  newspapers 
especially,  wishing  to  trouble  myself  as  little  as  possible  with 
the  Old  World,  that  I  might  keep  myself  free  to  observe  the 
New.  I  forgot  my  rule  at  Moss  Vale  so  far  as  to  take  up  a 
stray  number  of  the  '  Pall  Mall  Gazette,'  and  I  had  to  throw  it 
down  in  disgust.  I  found  that and  —  —  had  been  accus- 
ing Carlyle  in  the  American  journals  of  '  worship  of  rank  and 
wealth,'  and  that  —  -  had  spoken  of  myself  as  the  '  slipshod 
Nemesis ' — modern  synonym,  I  suppose,  for  the  halting  Furies 
— who  had  laid  bare  his  weakness.  Such  men  judge  after 
their  kind.  These  are  of  the  same  race,  as  Carlyle  always  said 


Carlyle.  205 

they  were,  with  those  who  cried,  '  Not  this  man,  but  Barab- 
bas.'  The  judgment  which  they  pass  is  but  the  measure  of 
their  own  intelligence.  I  was  vexed  for  a  moment,  but  I  re- 
called what  I  had  said  to  myself  from  the  beginning.  In 
wiiting  the  biography  of  a  great  man  you  are  to  tell  the  truth 
so  far  as  you  know  it.  You  are  not  to  trouble  yourself  with 
the  impression  which  you  may  produce  on  the  rank  and  file 
of  immediate  readers.  You  are  to  consider  the  wise,  and  in 
the  long  run  the  opinion  of  the  wise  will  be  the  opinion  of  the 
multitude.  Carlyle  was  the  noblest  and  truest  man  that  I 
ever  met  in  this  world.  His  peculiarities  were  an  essential 
part  of  him,  and  if  I  was  to  draw  any  portrait  of  him  at  all,  I 
was  bound  to  draw  a  faithful  portrait.  His  character  is  not 
likely  to  please  his  average  contemporaries,  of  whom  he  him- 
self had  so  poor  an  estimate.  Had  I  made  him  pleasing  to 
such  as  they  are,  I  should  have  drawn  nothing  which  in  any 
trait  could  resemble  the  original.  How  could  they  feel  less 
than  dislike  for  a  man  who  at  each  step  trod  on  their  vanity 
and  never  concealed  his  contempt  for  them  ?  He  can  wait 
for  the  certain  future,  when  he  will  be  seen  soaring  as  far 
beyond  them  all  as  the  eagle  soars  beyond  the  owl  and  the 
buzzard — or,  rather,  he  will  alone  be  seen,  and  they  and  their 
works  will  be  forgotten. 

The  earth,  we  are  told,  is  a  single  great  magnet.  Thought, 
like  electricity,  penetrates  everywhere,  and  as  Paris  and  Lon- 
don are  so  are  the  Antipodes.  On  our  return  to  Sydney  we 
had  more  dinners.  At  one  of  these,  my  immediate  neighbour, 
a  considerable  person,  asked  me  '  confidentially  '  if  I  believed 
in  a  future  state.  I  do  not  know  why  he  should  have  been 
shy  in  putting  such  a  question.  There  is  none  of  greater 
moment  to  all  of  us,  none  on  which  we  have  a  better  right  to 
seek  such  advice  as  we  can  find  ;  and  shyness  and  reticence 
are  no  evidence  of  the  completeness  of  our  conviction,  but 


206  Oceana. 

rather  of  the  opposite.  We  dare  not  look  into  one  another's 
minds  for  fear  of  what  we  should  find  there.  A  bishop  lately 
arrived  in  one  of  these  colonies,  a  very  honest  man,  was  re- 
quested, during  a  late  drought,  to  issue  a  circular  prayer  for 
rain.  He  replied  that  an  average  sufficiency  of  rain  fell  every 
year,  and  that  he  declined  to  petition  God  to  work  a  miracle 
until  the  colonists  had  done  all  that  lay  in  themselves  to  pre- 
serve it  by  constructing  reservoirs.  If  the  Church  authorities 
throughout  the  world  had  been  as  brave  and  sincere  in  their 
language  as  the  prelate  of  whom  I  speak,  the  world  would 
have  been  more  ready  to  accept  their  judgment  when  they 
told  us  what  we  ought  to  believe.  I  regretted  that  I  had  not 
seen  this  good  bishop.  Dr.  Barry,  too,  the  new  bishop  of 
New  South  Wales,  was  absent  in  Tasmania  at  the  time  of  my 
visit.  From  him  also,  so  far  as  I  could  gather  from  report, 
all  good  may  be  expected.  Hereafter,  it  is  to  be  hoped  there 
may  be  less  occasion  for  these  confidential  interrogatories. 

The  harbour  continued  our  chief  attraction.  The  Govern- 
ment had  left  their  steam  launch  at  our  disposition  whenever 
we  pleased  to  use  it.  The  water  was  the  coolest  place  which 
we  could  find ;  and  to  skim  over  it  with  a  self-created  breeze 
and  a  basket  of  grapes  at  our  side,  was  the  most  delicious 
method  of  passing  the  day.  We  made  one  more  circuit  of  the 
wooded  inlets,  penetrating  beyond  the  furthest  points  which  we 

had  visited  before.    E was  with  us  this  time,  bringing  his 

sketch-book  with  him.  We  rested  at  midday  in  a  secluded 
reach  of  the  deepest  of  the  estuaries.  The  strata  which  had 
been  tilted  vertically,  turned  the  shores  into  broken  walls. 
The  water  ran  deep  to  the  edge,  and  we  found  a  spot  where 
the  launch  could  lie  safely  beside  a  natural  causeway  overlaid 
with  oysters.  The  red  sandstone  rock  rose  steep  above  our 
heads.  Huge  fallen  masses  fringed  the  sides  of  the  inlet, 
their  shadows  mixing  with  the  forms  and  colours  of  the  trees 


Another  Day  in  Sydney  Harbour.  207 

which  lay  inverted  on  the  transparent  water.  Enormous 
eucalypti,  which  had  struck  their  roots  between  the  clefts  in 
the  stones,  towered  up  into  the  air,  or  spread  outwards  their 
long  branches,  shielding  us  from  the  sun.  Here  we  had 
luncheon — one  of  those  luncheons  which  linger  on  in  mem- 
ory, set  in  landscapes  of  lake  or  river-side  or  mountain  glen  ; 
where  food  becomes  poetical,  and  is  no  longer  vulgar  nutri- 
ment;  and  old  friends,  now  'gone  to  the  majority,'  show 
their  pleasant  faces  to  us  as  figures  in  a  dream.  Instead  of 
wine  we  had  our  grape-basket — great  bunches  like  those 
which  Virgil's  countrymen  gathered  wild  to  mix  with  the 

water  of  Achelous.     E made  a  water-colour  drawing  of 

the  place,  to  remember  it  by  in  years  to  come.  In  the  fore- 
ground stood  the  blighted  stem  of  a  gigantic  gum-tree  which 
had  tried  to  fall  and  had  been  arrested  half-way  in  its  descent 
by  a  buttress  of  rock.  There  it  was,  leaning  out  at  a  steep 
angle  over  the  water,  lifeless,  leafless,  the  trunk  twisted  into 
the  shape  of  some  monstrous  writhing  saurian,  the  naked 
branches  clear  against  the  sky  as  if  blasted  by  lightning. 
E dared  to  draw  the  ghostlike  thing,  and  succeeded  actu- 
ally in  catching  the  form,  and  something  of  the  emotion  be- 
longing to  it.  I,  in  a  humbler  way,  contented  myself  with 
the  landscape,  and  flinched  from  such  a  horrid  object. 

Our  time  in  Sydney  was  now  running  out,  and,  indeed, 
the  time  which  we  could  give  to  Australia.  We  had  been 
nearly  two  months  there.  I  was  sorry  to  miss  Van  Diemen's 
Land,  which  they  say  is  the  most  like  England  of  all  our 
possessions  in  those  seas — an  England  with  a  gentler  climate. 
We  had  been  pressed  to  visit  Queensland  ;  but  my  object  had 
been  to  learn  the  thoughts  and  views  of  such  reflecting  per- 
sons as  could  best  forecast  the  future,  and  for  the  rest  to  look 
rather  at  what  the  colonists  themselves  were  doing  than  at 
new  countries  as  nature  had  made  them.  I  had  therefore 


208  Oceana. 

given  all  my  leisure  to  the  two  leading  states,  where  energy 
and  enterprise  had  accomplished  the  most. 

Before  we  left  I  had  a  second  and  extremely  interesting 
talk  with  Mr.  Dalley,  the  substance  of  which,  or  at  least 
parts  of  it,  I  saw  afterwards  fairly  well  reported  in  one  of  the 
Sydney  papers,  and  for  this  reason,  and  because  I  think  Mr. 
Dalley  wished  that  his  opinions  should  be  known  in  England, 
I  transcribe  from  my  note-book  the  principal  things  which  he 
said  to  me. 

The  main  subject  was  the  much  talked  of  '  Federation '  of 
the  colonies  and  the  mother  country.  Could  the  colonies 
and  Great  Britain  coalesce  in  a  political  union?  and  if  so 
how  and  into  what  kind  of  union  ?  The  next  chapter  will 
contain  the  conclusions  which  I  drew  about  it  from  miscella- 
neous conversations,  not  with  Mr.  Dalley  only  but  with  all 
kinds  of  persons.  The  views  of  Mr.  Dalley  himself,  as  the 
most  remarkable  of  all  the  Australian  statesmen  that  I  met 
with,  must  have  a  place  by  themselves.  '  Oceana '  to  him  was 
no  unreal  union.  It  was  an  object  of  distinct  and  practical 
hope.  He  desired  himself  to  see  us  all  united — not  in  heart, 
not  in  sentiment,  not  in  loyalty  and  British  feeling  ;  for  that 
we,  or  at  least  those  colonies,  were  already — but  one  in  so 
completed  a  confederacy  that  separation  should  no  longer  be 
mentioned  among  us  even  as  a  crotchet  of  an  English  public 
office.  He  did  not  despair  of  such  a  consummation,  though 
he  was  well  aware  of  the  difficulties  in  the  way.  He  thought 
that  if  the  British  people  really  wished  for  it,  if  no  unwise 
experiments  were  tried  prematurely,  and  if  no  attempt  were 
made  to  force  any  one  of  the  colonies  into  a  course  for  which 
it  was  unprepared,  time  and  the  natural  tendencies  of  things 
would  accomplish  what  had  been  called  impossible. 

Of  the  detailed  schemes  already  suggested  Mr.  Dalley  had 
no  good  opinion. 


Mr.  Dalley  on  Confederation.  209 

1.  The   confederation   of  the   Australian   colonies   among 
themselves  was  supposed  in  England  to  be  a  step  towards  a 
larger  union.     It  had  been  pressed  upon  them  by  high  au- 
thorities at  home ;  Victoria  was  eager  for  it — and  where  Vic- 
toria led  the  other  provinces  would  be   inclined  to  follow. 
New  South  "Wales,  however,  the   eldest   of  the   South   Sea 
communities,  was  opposed  to  it  for  many  reasons,  most  of  all 
because  he  believed  it  would  not  tend  in  any  way  to  promote 
Imperial  federation,  but  rather  would  have  an  opposite  effect. 
The  Colonial  Office  might  wish  to  escape  trouble,  and  prob- 
ably adhered  in  secret  to  the  old  policy,  which  was  to  make 
Australia  independent.     New  South  Wales  objected,  and  he 
trusted  that  the  Imperial  Government  would  respect  their 
opposition  and  understand  the  motives  of  it.     A  confedera- 
tion of  the  Australian  colonies,  through  and  in  an  Imperial 
federation,  Mr.   Dalley  would  welcome  and  would  promote 
with  all  his  strength.     A  separate  local  federation  he  had  op- 
posed and  would  oppose  to  the  end. 

2.  Some  English  advocates  of  Imperial  federation  had  con- 
ceived that  there  could  be  no  unity  without  a  central  council 
or  parliament  in  which  the  several  colonies  could  be  repre- 
sented, and  had  suggested  that  a  convenient  body  could  be 
formed  immediately  out  of  the  colonial  agents-general.     To 
this  proposal  Mr.  Dalley  had  many  and,  as  it  seemed  to  me, 
well-grounded  objections.     The  agents-general  were  originally 
little   more  than  colonial  consuls,  engaged  exclusively  with 
commercial  business  or  financial.     As  the  colonies  grew  in 
importance,  the  functions  of  these  gentlemen  had  necessarily 
extended  and  had   assumed   political   consequence.     It  was 
right,  and   indeed   inevitable,  that  they  should   so  extend. 
The  persons  chosen  for  these  offices  were  generally  men  who 
had  grown  old  in  the  colonial  service,  who  had  been  distin- 
guished in  the  various  Legislatures,  had  held  office,  and  were 

14 


210  Oceana. 

of  weight  and  consequence.  They  were  thus  fit  and  proper 
advisers  of  the  Colonial  Office,  each  for  the  colony  by  which 
he  was  accredited.  They  might  properly  be  sworn  members 
of  the  Privy  Council — a  step  which  the  Crown  itself  could 
take  without  consulting  either  the  British  or  the  Colonial 
Parliaments.  But  this  was  something  entirely  different  from 
erecting  them  into  a  responsible  and  deliberative  assembly. 
In  the  first  place,  Mr.  Dalley  said,  the  functions  of  such  an 
assembly  would  have  to  be  defined,  and  the  longer  this  ques- 
tion was  considered  the  less  easily  would  the  answer  to  it  be 
found.  In  the  second  place,  the  agents-general  were  not 
representatives  of  the  colonies  ;  they  held  their  offices  at  the 
will  of  the  party  who  happened  to  be  in  power.  They  were 
not  now  recalled  or  changed  at  each  change  of  Government, 
because  their  present  duties  were  not  of  a  kind  which  re- 
quired alteration  ;  but  they  could  no  longer  retain  this  politi- 
cally neutral  character  if  so  great  a  change  was  made  in  their 
position.  Each  new  Administration  would  be  tempted  to 
appoint  a  new  agent-general,  at  great  inconvenience  to  the 
colony.  Even  then  he  would  not  and  could  not  represent  the 
colony  as  a  whole,  and  there  would  be  instant  jealousy  if  he 
attempted  to  act  in  any  such  capacity.  Supposing  these 
objections  overcome,  and  a  council  of  agents-general  brought 
together  directly  elected  for  the  purpose,  such  a  council  from 
its  very  nature  would  have  to  debate  and  decide  questions  on 
which  the  colonies  would  have  separate  and  perhaps  opposite 
interests.  The  interest  of  one  was  not  always  the  interest  of 
another  ;  when  there  were  differences  of  opinion,  the  majority 
would  determine  ;  and  why  was  New  South  Wales  to  submit 
to  be  outvoted  by  agents  from  Jamaica  or  Canada  or  the  Cape, 
in  matters  of  which  New  South  Wales  herself  might  claim  to 
be  the  only  competent  judge.  The  only  possible  result  would 
be  confusion  and  quarrels.  The  scheme  would  break  down 


Mr.  Dalley  on  Confederation.  211 

on  the  very  first  occasion  when  there  was  serious  division  of 
opinion.  The  interference  of  Downing  Street  itself,  even  as 
it  was  now  constituted,  would  be  less  intolerable  than  the 
authoritative  rule  of  a  council  composed  of  agents-general 
collected  from  all  parts  of  the  empire. 

Other  projects  of  an  analogous  kind,  projects  for  a  great 
Imperial  Parliament  to  supersede  the  present,  &c.,  Mr.  Dalley 
dismissed  as  still  more  unworthy  of  serious  consideration. 
Such  a  parliament  as  that  would  have  to  grow,  if  ever  it  was 
to  exist  at  all,  out  of  the  exigencies  of  future  occasions.  Or- 
ganic institutions  could  not  be  manufactured  to  order  by 
closet  speculators  ;  they  developed  of  themselves. 

But  if  Imperial  deliberative  assemblies  were  not  to  be 
thought  of,  there  was  something  of  immeasurably  greater  im- 
portance which  might  be  thought  of,  and  Mr.  Dalley  referred 
to  the  subject  of  the  Colonial  Navy.  Oceana,  the  great  em- 
pire of  which  Great  Britain  was  the  stem,  and  the  colonies 
the  branches,  was  the  creation  of  the  naval  enterprise  of  Eng- 
land. She  had  spread  her  race  over  the  globe,  and  had  planted 
them  where  they  were  now  flourishing,  because  she  had  been 
supreme  upon  the  seas.  The  fleet  was  the  instrument  of  her 
power  and  the  symbol  of  her  unity.  British  ships  of  war 
were  the  safeguard  of  colonial  liberty,  and  the  natural  chain 
which  held  the  scattered  communities  together.  The  fleet, 
therefore,  ought  to  be  one.  Division  was  weakness,  and  the 
old  story  of  the  bundle  of  sticks  had  here  its  proper  applica- 
tion. Let  there  be  one  navy,  Mr.  Dalley  said,  under  the  rule 
of  a  single  Admiralty — a  navy  in  which  the  colonies  should 
be  as  much  interested  as  the  mother  country,  which  should 
be  theirs  as  well  as  hers,  and  on  which  they  might  all  rely  in 
time  of  danger.  Let  there  be  no  more  colonial  ships  under  a 
separate  authority,  unlikely  to  be  found  efficient  if  their  ser- 
vices were  needed  on  a  sudden,  and  liable  to  be  mischievously 


212  Oceana. 

misused  if  maintained  continuously  in  a  condition  fit  for  sea. 
Let  each  great  colony  or  group  of  colonies  have  their  squad- 
ron, which  should  bear  their  name,  should  be  always  present 
in  their  waters,  and  be  supported  out  of  their  own  resources, 
while  it  remained  at  the  same  time  an  integral  part  of  the  one 
navy  of  Oceana.  So  the  empire  would  be  invulnerable  on  its 
own  element,  and,  invulnerable  there,  might  laugh  at  the  ill- 
will  of  all  the  nations  of  the  earth  combined.  It  would  be 
linked  together  by  a  bond  to  which  the  most  ingenious  par- 
liamentary union  would  be  as  packthread.  Each  member  of 
the  vast  community  would  be  left  free  to  manage  its  internal 
affairs  as  might  seem  best  to  itself,  and,  secure  in  being  ad- 
mitted into  partnership  with  the  most  splendid  empire  which 
the  earth  had  ever  seen,  it  would  as  little  think  of  separating, 
as  the  hand  would  think  of  separating  from  the  body. 

This  was  the  scheme  for  Imperial  confederation  put  before 
me  by  the  minister  whose  action  in  sending  the  contingent 
to  the  Soudan  has  been  so  much  admired  and  applauded. 
Each  colony  was  to  estimate  what  its  naval  defence  would 
cost  if  it  were  left  to  its  own  resources,  and  to  offer  this  as  a 
subsidy  to  the  expenses  of  the  Imperial  fleet  Money  would 
be  but  a  slight  difficulty,  and  would  be  a  less  and  less  difficulty 
as  their  wealth  increased. 

'  Only,'  he  said,  and  with  some  emphasis,  '  we  must  have 
the  English  flag  again ' — and  on  this  one  subject  Mr.  Dalley 
seemed  to  speak  with  bitterness.  The  Australians  do  not  like 
a  bar  sinister  over  their  scutcheon,  as  if  they  were  bastards 
and  not  legitimate  ;  and  surely  of  all  ill-considered  measures 
in  our  dealings  with  the  colonies,  the  indignity  of  forcing 
upon  them  a  difference  in  the  flag  was  the  very  worst.  No 
affront  was,  of  course,  intended.  The  alteration  originated,  I 
believe,  in  some  officialism  unintelligible  to  the  ordinary  mind, 
and  was  taken  up  and  insisted  on  as  part  of  the  Separatist 


The  British  Flag.  213 

policy.  By  our  poor  kindred  it  has  been  taken  as  an  intima- 
tion, flaunted  perpetually  in  their  faces,  that  we  look  on  them 
as  our  inferiors  and  not  as  our  equals.  Those  who  are  talk- 
ing and  writing  so  eagerly  now  about  a  confederated  empire, 
should  insist  at  once,  and  without  delay,  that  when  any  colony 
expresses  a  desire  to  fly  over  its  ships  and  forts  the  old  flag  of 
England,  neither  childish  pedantry  nor  treacherous  secret 
designs  to  break  the  empire  into  fragments  shall  be  allowed 
to  interfere  with  a  patriotic  and  honourable  purpose. 


214  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  XHL 

Alternative  prospects  of  the  Australian  colonies — Theory  of  the  value  of 
colonies  in  the  last  century — Modern  desire  for  union — Proposed 
schemes — Representation — Proposal  for  colonial  Peers — Federal  Par- 
liament impossible — Organised  emigration — Dangers  of  hasty  meas- 
ures—Distribution of  honours— Advantages  and  disadvantages  of 
party  government  in  colonies — Last  words  on  South  Africa. 

WE  hrxd  now  seen  all  that  our  limits  of  time  would  allow  us 
of  Australia  and  the  Australians.  New  South  Wales  and 
Victoiia  are  vast  territories,  and  ours  had  been  but  a  glimpse 
of  a  small  part  of  them  ;  but  a  stay  indefinitely  prolonged 
could  have  taught  me  no  more  than  I  already  knew  of  the 
opinions  of  those  who  were  guiding  the  destinies  of  Australia, 
and  of  the  alternative  possibilities  of  the  future.  If  those 
colonies  remain  attached  to  the  mother  country,  a  great  and 
prosperous  destiny  seems,  in  human  probability,  assured  to 
them.  If  fate  and  official  want  of  wisdom  divides  us  asunder, 
they  will  also,  I  suppose,  form  eventually  a  great  nation,  or 
several  nations,  but  they  will  have  to  pass  through  the  fire  of 
affliction.  Trials  await  them  of  many  kinds,  as  certain  as  the 
disorders  of  childhood,  some  made  by  fate,  some  by  human 
wilfulness.  Nations  cannot  mature,  any  more  than  each  in- 
dividual of  us,  without  having  their  school  lessons  drilled  into 
them  by  painful  processes.  eV  iraOft.  naOtiv  is  the  law  of  human 
progress,  from  the  growth  of  the  schoolboy  to  the  growth  of 
the  lai'gest  community.  The  Australians,  being  of  English 
blood,  will  probably  pass  successfully  through  their  various 
apprenticeships.  It  is  possible,  on  the  other  hand,  that  they 


Alternative  Pro&pecte.  215 

may  repeat  the  experience  of  the  Spanish  colonies  in  America, 
and  have  a  long  period  before  them  of  war  and  revolution. 
Human  nature  is  very  uniform,  and  the  Spaniards  in  the  six- 
teenth century  were  as  advanced  a  race  as  we.  They  had  de- 
generated before  their  colonies  were  cast  adrift,  and  British 
communities  may  hope  reasonably  for  a  better  future  than 
befel  any  Spanish  settlement  which  achieved  its  independence. 
But  dangers  of  some  kind  there  must  be,  and  the  Australian 
colonists  will  not  expose  themselves  unnecessarily  to  the  ac- 
cidents inseparable  from  isolation.  Their  nationality  at  pres- 
ent is  English,  and  if  they  leave  us  it  will  be  by  the  action  of 
Great  Britain  herself,  not  by  any  action  of  their  own.  To  the 
question  what  political  measure  should  be  taken  to  preserve 
the  union  they  would  answer  generally,  no  measures  at  all 
save  in  a  better  organisation  of  the  navy.  Let  well  alone. 
The  ties  which  hold  us  together  are  daily  strengthening  of 
themselves.  The  trade  of  England  with  the  colonies  grows 
far  more  rapidly  than  with  any  other  parts  of  the  world.  In- 
tercourse is  increasing.  Melbourne  and  Sydney  are  as  easy 
of  access  now  as  New  York  was  fifty  years  ago.  Steam  and 
telegraph  have  made  an  end  of  distance.  The  English  in  the 
colonies  and  the  English  at  home  will  not  fall  out  if  the  offi- 
cials in  Downing  Street  do  not  set  them  by  the  ears.  If  the 
officials  persist,  there  will  be  the  remedy  of  the  unwilling 
duellists  who  turned  their  pistols  on  the  seconds  that  had 
made  the  quarrel. 

In  the  present  state  of  public  feeling,  the  danger  is  rather 
from  premature  experiments  on  the  part  of  those  who  are 
anxious  to  see  the  union  assume  a  more  defined  form.  I 
will  therefore  add  a  few  more  words  to  what  was  said  by  Mr. 
Dalley,  on  the  different  schemes  which  have  been  put  forward, 
and  mention  the  opinions  which  I  heard  expressed  about 
them. 

The  colonial  theory  in  favour  in  England  in  the  last  cen- 


216  Oceana. 

tury,  was  that  the  colonies  existed  only  by  favour  of  the 
mother  country  ;  that  the  mother  country  was  entitled  to  im- 
pose upon  them  such  conditions  as  it  pleased,  in  return  for 
her  protection.  The  value  of  the  colonies  was  as  a  market 
for  British  manufactures.  We  arranged  the  terms  of  the 
market  as  seemed  most  to  our  own  advantage.  We  allowed 
them  to  trade  only  with  ourselves,  and  in  such  articles  as  we 
chose  to  prescribe.  They  were  dissatisfied,  and  when  we 
proceeded  further  to  tiy  to  raise  a  direct  revenue  from  them, 
they  resisted.  The  cry  rose  which  remains  the  first  article 
of  modern  political  faith — 'no  taxation  without  representa- 
tion.' The  American  States  demanded  to  be  allowed  to  send 
representatives  to  the  English  Parliament.  Had  the  demand 
been  conceded,  Franklin  and  Washington  would  have  been 
satisfied  ;  and  thenceforth  no  '  colonial  question,'  in  the  sense 
in  which  we  now  speak  of  it,  would  ever  have  existed.  The 
colonies  would  have  been  represented  in  proportion  to  their 
wealth  and  population  ;  the  empire  would  have  grown  homo- 
geneously, and  British  subjects  in  all  parts  of  the  world 
would  have  had  equal  political  rights.  For  a  time  at  least 
this  would  have  answered  the  demands  of  the  Americans. 
No  one  can  say  what  would  eventually  have  happened  ;  but  a 
precedent  would  have  been  set  for  all  subsequent  arrange- 
ments, which  could  have  been  easily  followed  or  modified  as 
occasion  required.  The  authorities  at  home  were  stubborn  ; 
they  despised  the  colonies  too  much  to  acquiesce  in  a  reason- 
able demand.  The  Sibyl  tore  the  pages  from  her  book,  and 
the  American  provinces  were  lost.  We  have  boasted  loudly 
that  we  will  not  repeat  the  same  mistake — that  we  will  never 
try  to  coerce  a  British  colony  into  remaining  with  us  against 
its  will.  But  the  spirit  has  continued  absolutely  unaltered  ; 
the  contempt  has  been  the  same  ;  we  have  opened  our  trade 
with  the  rest  of  the  world  ;  and  the  sole  value  of  the  colonies 
being  still  supposed  to  He  in  their  being  consumers  of  Eng- 


Proposed  Council  of  Agents- General.  217 

lish  goods,  it  has  been  imagined  that  they  would  consume  as 
much  whether  dependent  or  independent,  and  that  therefore 
it  was  a  matter  of  indifference  whether  their  connection  with 
us  was  sustained  or  broken.  We  could  have  saved  America 
by  admitting  its  representatives.  We  have  never  so  much  as 
thought  whether  we  might  not  give  representation  to  Canada 
and  Australia.  It  might  have  been  done  fifty  years  ago. 
The  opportunity  has  been  lost  now  and  cannot  return.  The 
colonies  have  their  several  Legislatures,  are  accustomed  to  be 
completely  masters  of  their  internal  affairs,  and  will  not  part 
with  privileges  which  have  become  precious  to  them.  Great 
Britain  will  not  allow  colonial  representatives  to  vote  her 
taxes  or  her  trade  policy,  unless  the  colonies  will  allow  the 
Parliament  so  constituted  to  revise  their  tariff  and  tax  them 
in  return.  As  things  now  stand,  no  member  for  Sydney  or 
Melbourne  or  Ottawa  or  Montreal  can  ever  sit  in  the  British 
House  of  Commons.  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  agents- 
general  might  have  official  seats,  and  might  speak  but  might 
not  vote  ;  but  a  position  of  impotence  and  inferiority  would 
irritate  more  than  it  would  conciliate.  There  is  no  instance 
on  record  of  a  successful  experiment  of  this  kind  ;  and  the 
fatal  objection  still  holds  that  the  agents-general  cannot  rep- 
resent the  colonies  because  they  are  not  elected  to  represent 
them  ;  and  the  system  on  which  they  are  appointed  cannot 
be  changed,  to  confer  merely  on  them  the  ineffectual  privi- 
lege of  being  present  at  debates  where  their  voices  will  have 
no  power. 

If  the  colonies  cannot  be  represented  even  in  such  equiv- 
ocal fashion  in  the  House  of  Commons,  it  has  been  thought 
that  in  another  place  there  might  not  be  the  same  difficulty  ; 
that  into  a  reformed  House  of  Lords,  or  even  into  that  House 
as  it  exists  at  present,  colonial  statesmen  might  be  admitted 
as  life  peers.  Distinguished  political  services  would  thus 
receive  an  appropriate  recognition,  and  the  Upper  House 


218  Oceana. 

might  gain  an  increased  Imperial  consequence  which  now 
hardly  attaches  to  it.  I  have  myself  often  imagined  that 
such  an  experiment  might  at  least  be  tried.  My  experience 
in  Cape  affairs  taught  me  how  inestimable  would  be  the  ad- 
vantage if  each  of  our  self-governed  dependencies  could  have 
some  one  who  could  speak  on  their  affairs  publicly  and  with 
a  less  equivocal  authority  than  would  belong  to  them  as  non- 
voting  members  of  the  Lower  House.  Agents-general  com- 
municate only  with  the  Colonial  Office,  and  the  public  are  left 
in  ignorance  whether  their  advice  has  been  accepted  or 
passed  over.  The  despatches  of  Governors  may  be  published 
in  blue  books,  but  their  private  letters  are  not  published. 
The  world  generally  does  not  read  blue  books,  and  only  hears 
what  they  contain  from  party  fights  in  Parliament.  This  or 
that  person  may  have  private  knowledge,  and  may  write  to 
the  newspapers  or  make  a  speech  on  a  platform ;  but  he  is 
only  an  individual,  and  may  be  suspected  of  having  objects 
of  his  own.  If  we  had  among  us  men  who  could  speak  in  the 
name  and  with  the  authority  of  the  general  sense  of  a  colony, 
the  public  would  listen,  and  the  expensive  mistakes  which 
are  now  so  frequent  would  not  be  permitted.  The  public 
trusts  its  representatives  and  the  cabinets  formed  out  of  them 
far  too  implicitly.  It  knows — it  cannot  but  know — that  the 
constituencies  do  not  choose  men  to  represent  them  because 
they  are  wise.  The  constituencies  choose  them  for  other  rea- 
sons, and  ought  not  therefore  to  expect  to  find  them  wise. 
If  there  had  been  anyone  in  England  who  could  have  told  us 
the  truth  about  South  Africa  from  a  position  which  would 
have  commanded  attention,  the  Orange  River  would  have  re- 
mained where  it  was  fixed  by  treaty,  as  the  frontier  of  the 
colony ;  the  Diamond  Fields  would  never  have  been  torn  from 
the  Orange  Free  State  ;  the  Transvaal  would  not  have  been 
annexed,  on  the  plea  that  the  Dutch  desired  it.  Sir  Baiile 
Frere  would  have  made  no  Avars  against  the  Caffres  and 


Colonial  Life  Peers.  219 

Zulus  ;  the  shadow  of  Majuba  Hill  would  not  have  withered 
our  military  laurels.  The  country  would  not  have  been  de- 
luded into  a  belief  that  when  Sir  Charles  Warren  had  con- 
quered Bechuanaland  the  Cape  ministry  would  relieve  us  of 
the  cost  of  ruling  it.  These  freaks  of  our  rulers — the  earliest 
of  them  but  fifteen  years  old,  the  last  in  progress  -at  this 
moment — have  cost  several  millions  of  pounds  and  tens  of 
thousands  of  human  lives.  Honour  does  not  go  for  much  in 
these  days,  but  honour  has  been  lost  too.  And  all  these 
blunders  would  have  been  avoided,  and  the  Cape  Colony 
would  now  have  been  a  peaceable  and  prosperous  community, 
had  the  true  condition  of  things  been  known.  The  English 
public  rarely  goes  wrong  when  the  facts  are  fairly  put  before 
it.  The  weighty  voice  of  a  single  well-informed  person,  who 
could  speak  with  authority,  would  have  echoed  over  the 
country,  and  ministers  would  have  been  forbidden  to  indulge 
themselves  in  these  ambitious  but  costly  levities. 

The  House  of  Lords  seemed  to  offer  the  required  opportu- 
nity, and  admission  thither  promised  to  bring  the  colonies 
into  political  relations  with  us  in  a  form  to  which  the  least 
objection  could  be  taken.  I  am  obliged  to  say,  however,  that 
I  did  not  find  in  Australia  a  single  person  who  would  seri- 
ously attend  to  the  mention  of  such  a  thing.  In  the  first 
place,  they  said  men  could  not  be  found  for  such  a  purpose, 
in  whom  the  colonists  would  place  continuous  confidence. 
The  Peers  I  spoke  of  would  have  to  be  appointed  for  life,  or 
at  least  for  a  period  of  several  years.  The  growth  of  colonies 
is  so  rapid,  and  the  change  of  circumstances  so  frequent,  that 
a  man  who  might  be  trusted  wholly  one  year,  would  be  half- 
trusted  the  next,  and  the  third  would  not  be  trusted  at  all. 
Being  absent  he  would  lose  touch  of  popular  feeling.  There 
would  be  a  demand  for  his  recall,  and  if  this  could  not  be, 
he  would  be  disowned  and  his  influence  gone.  Again,  how 
were  they  to  be  elected  ?  Like  creates  like,  and  a  popular 


220  Oceana. 

vote  could  not  make  a  peer.  Crown  appointments  through 
the  Governors  would  please  no  one  ;  if  made  by  the  Ministry 
of  the  day,  they  would  displease  the  Opposition,  who,  when 
their  turn  of  power  came,  would  claim  to  nominate  others, 
and  as  ministries  change  fast,  colonial  peers  would  multiply 
inconveniently.  Thii'dly,  the  choice  would  be  limited  to  men 
of  wealth  and  leisure,  with  a  reputation  for  character  and  in- 
telligence, and  the  number  of  persons  combining  the  neces- 
sary qualifications  could  be  counted  on  the  fingers  of  one 
hand.  Lastly,  and  conclusively,  the  colonists  are  democratic. 
They  are  pleased  to  see  our  noble  lords  who  come  visiting 
among  them,  but  they  do  not  wish  to  see  such  high  dignities 
naturalized  among  themselves,  even  in  the  most  diluted  form. 
In  short,  they  treated  the  suggestion  as  ridiculous,  and  ridi- 
cule is  fatal.  There  will  be  no  colonial  life  peers  till  the 
House  of  Lords  has  undergone  a  process  like  the  aged  Greek 
king ;  till  it  has  been  taken  to  pieces,  dissected,  and  recon- 
structed by  some  revolutionary  Medea. 

Another  project  has  been  suggested,  I  know  not  whether  I 
need  mention  it.  A  new  Parliament,  a  Federal  Parliament, 
composed  of  representatives  for  all  parts  of  the  empire,  is  to 
sit  side  by  side  with  the  existing  Parliament  and  relieve  it  of 
the  charge  of  foreign  and  colonial  policy.  The  ministry  will 
have  to  be  chosen  from  this  new  Parliament.  On  it  will  fall 
the  decision  of  all  questions  of  peace  or  war.  Therefore  it 
•will  have  the  overruling  voice  in  the  taxation  which  its  acts 
may  make  necessary.  The  House  of  Commons  is  now  om- 
nipotent. No  man,  or  body  of  meu,  has  been  known  yet  to 
relinquish  voluntarily  powers  of  which  it  was  in  present  pos- 
session. Who  is  to  persuade  the  House  of  Commons  to  ab- 
dicate half  its  functions,  and  construct  a  superior  authority 
which  would  reduce  it  to  the  level  of  a  municipal  Board  ? 
What  force  short  of  revolution  and  soldiers'  bayonets  could 
bring  them  to  it  ?  Of  all  the  amateur  propositions  hitherto 


What   We  Can  Do.  221 

brought  forward,  this  of  a  Federal  Parliament  is  the  most 
chimerical  and  absurd. 

Is  there  then  nothing  which  can  be  done  ?  Must  we  drift 
on  at  the  mercy  of  man  or  the  mercy  of  circumstances,  drift 
as  we  always  do  drift  when  we  abandon  the  helm  on  the  lee 
shore  of  disintegration  ?  Everything  may  be  done  which  it 
is  fit  and  right  to  do  if  we  know  our  bearings,  if  we  know  the 
ocean  currents,  and  the  capabilities  of  the  ship  which  carries 
us.  But  we  must  look  at  the  facts  as  they  are,  not  as  in  our 
imaginative  enthusiasm,  or  equally  imaginary  alarms,  we  may 
wish  or  fear  them  to  be.  What,  then,  are  the  facts,  and  what 
is  our  object?  "We  say  that  we  desire  the  colonies  to  be 
united  to  the  empire.  They  are  united  already,  united  by  the 
bond  of  nature.  The  inhabitants  of  Victoria  and  New  South 
Wales  are  as  completely  subjects  of  the  Queen  of  Great 
Britain  as  any  of  ourselves  ;  they  are  as  proud  of  their  sover- 
eign, they  are  as  heartily  loyal,  they  as  little  dream  of  throw- 
ing off  their  allegiance.  Nay,  perhaps  they  have  more  part 
in  David  than  those  who  are  nearer  to  the  throne.  Their  at- 
tachment is  enhanced  by  the  emotional  enchantment  of  dis- 
tance. Well  then,  let  this  identity  be  recognised  in  all  com- 
munications which  are  exchanged  with  them.  They  complain 
of  the  coldness  of  tone  and  almost  estrangement  with  which 
they  have  been  hitherto  addressed  :  and  the  complaint  is  not 
without  reason.  When  they  make  impetuous  demands  upon 
us,  when  they  require  us,  as  in  the  case  of  New  Guinea,  to 
challenge  one  of  the  great  Powers  of  Europe  on  account  of 
injuries  which  to  us  seem  visionary,  we  may  be  right  and  wise 
in  declining  ;  but  we  might  so  decline  as  to  show  them  that 
we  understand  their  feelings,  respect  their  ambition,  regard 
even  their  impatience  as  a  sign  that  they  are  zealous  for  the 
greatness  of  Oceana.  Kind  words  cost  nothing,  and  kind 
words  would  be  precious  to  these  far-off  relations  of  ours,  for 
they  would  show  that  the  heart  of  England  was  with  them. 


222  Oceana. 

Again,  they  are  passionately  attached  to  their  sovereign. 
The  Queen  is  present  with  them  through  the  Governor  ;  and 
the  Governor  might  and  should  be  worthy  always  of  the  dig- 
nity of  the  great  person  whom  he  represents.  I  am  well  aware 
that  for  these  high  offices  we  select  occasionally  men  of  capa- 
city and  character.  No  fitter  President  could  have  been  found 
for  Victoria  in  all  the  British  dominions  than  Sir  Henry  Loch. 
But  it  is  notorious  that,  at  least  in  past  times,  other  consider- 
ations have  influenced  our  selection.  Minor  political  services, 
social  rank,  the  desire  to  '  provide '  for  this  gentleman  or  that, 
have  been  sufficient  recommendations  for  the  viceroyalties 
of  our  grandest  dependencies,  when  men  of  tried  ability  and 
high  administrative  experience,  who  have  been  so  unhappy  as 
to  displease  the  Colonial  Office,  have  been  allowed  to  fall  out 
of  the  service.  The  indirect  influence  which  a  really  able 
and  trained  Englishman  who  has  moved  in  a  larger  sphere 
can  exercise  in  a  constitutional  colony  is  necessarily  immense. 
His  duty  is  to  abide  by  the  advice  of  his  ministers ;  but  his 
ministers  and  the  colonial  public  will  pay  the  voluntary  re- 
spect to  his  judgment  which  his  wider  education  and  mental 
superiority  command.  He  will  lead  without  commanding. 
The  presence  among  them  of  first-rate  men  is  a  compliment 
which  the  colonies  appreciate  as  an  evidence  of  the  estimation 
in  which  they  are  held  ;  just  as  when  some  mere  man  of  rank, 
or  some  hack  of  party  is  sent  among  them,  they  resent  it  as  a 
sign  of  disrespect.  If  we  value  the  attachment  of  the  colonies, 
we  are  bound  to  furnish  them  with  the  fittest  chiefs  whom  we 
can  provide  ;  and  there  will  be  no  difficulty  when  the  situation 
of  governor  of  a  great  colony  is  recognised  as  of  the  impor- 
tance which  really  attaches  to  it. 

This  is  one  thing  which  we  can  do.  If  it  is  done  already 
we  have  so  far  discharged  our  duty  and  must  continue  to 
discharge  it. 

Again,  the  colonies  need  immigrants,  and  the  right  sort  of 


What   We  Can  Do.  223 

immigrants.  Immigration  from  Europe  has  raised  America 
in  half  a  century  to  the  first  rank  among  the  nations  of  the 
world.  Four-fifths  of  the  English  and  Scotch  and  Irish  who 
annually  leave  our  shores  to  find  new  homes,  become  citizens 
of  the  United  States.  Can  no  effort  be  made  in  connection 
with  the  Colonial  Governments  to  direct  at  least  part  of  this 
fertilising  stream  into  our  own  dominions  ?  Can  we  afford 
to  spend  tens  of  millions  upon  Kussian  wars,  Egyptian  wars, 
Caffre  and  Zulu  wars,  and  can  we  afford  nothing,  can  we  not 
afford  so  much  as  attention,  in  order  to  save  the  British 
nationality  of  so  many  hundreds  of  thousands  of  our  fellow- 
citizens?  With  some  care  and  some  fraction  of  the  enor- 
mous sums  which  we  fling  away  so  lavishly,  we  could  be 
weaving  threads  to  bind  the  colonies  stronger  than  the  web 
which  Maimuna  spun  round  the  arms  of  Thalaba.  Some 
years  ago  a  colonial  premier  spoke  to  me  on  this  subject.  I 
said  that  thousands  of  boys  and  girls  would  now  annually 
be  leaving  our  Board  schools  with  a  rudimentary  education, 
who  had  no  parents,  no  friends,  no  prospects.  I  asked  him 
if  his  colony  would  take  some  of  them,  fetch  them  out,  and 
apprentice  them,  till  they  were  twenty-one,  to  colonial  farmers 
and  artisans — the  colony  to  be  responsible  for  their  good 
treatment,  and  to  bear  the  expenses,  in  consideration  for  the 
services  of  these  boys  and  girls  while  under  age.  I  conceived 
that  it  would  be  a  means  of  providing  the  colony  with  the 
most  valuable  recruits  that  could  be  found  for  it,  while  to  the 
children  themselves,  if  they  behaved  well,  it  would  assure  a 
happy  future.  My  friend  answered  that  we  could  do  noth- 
ing, absolutely  nothing,  whi&h  would  be  received  more  warmly 
and  gratefully  by  his  colony.  He  promised  everything — co- 
operation, supervision,  any  securities  and  guarantees  that  we 
liked  to  ask.  I  laid  the  matter  before  the  home  authorities. 
After  a  few  weeks  I  received  a  reply,  covering  a  quire  of 
foolscap  paper,  proving  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  writer  that 


224  Oceana. 

nothing  of  the  sort  could  or  ought  to  be  tried.  Miss  Rye 
and  other  generous  women  have  proved  that  it  can  be  done, 
and  have  provided  hundreds  of  destitute  children  with  homes 
in  Canada.  Government  officials  can  only  answer — Impos- 
sible. 

For  other  measures  we  must  wait  for  the  occasion.  Inter- 
federation  of  the  Australian  States,  or  free  trade,  or  a  Zoll- 
verein,  or  any  other  project  may,  and  perhaps  will,  be  raised 
as  a  hustings  cry  in  England.  But  those  who  really  desire 
the  union  of  Oceana  will  avoid,  as  far  as  possible,  all  such 
idle  suggestions.  The  colonists  are  doing  our  work  ;  they 
are,  or  some  of  them  are,  the  most  vigorous  members  of  our 
whole  empire.  If  they  contribute  nothing  directly  to  the  Im- 
perial treasury,  they  pay  their  own  internal  expenses.  They 
are  opening  their  soil  to  as  many  of  our  people  as  they  can 
attract ;  they  are  finding  employment  for  our  capital ;  they 
are  feeding  our  trade  ;  they  are  accumulating  wealth,  which, 
in  fact,  is  national  wealth  ;  they  have  shown  that  in  a  sup- 
posed time  of  danger  they  are  eager  to  share  our  burdens ; 
they  are  doing  all  which  we  have  a  right  to  expect  of  them  ; 
each  year  their  resources  increase,  and,  as  they  become  con- 
scious of  their  importance,  they  will  seek  and,  perhaps,  will 
claim  a  more  intimate  connection  with  the  Imperial  adminis- 
tration. But  as  long  as  they  are  contented  to  be  as  they  are, 
while  they  are  ready  to  encounter  such  risks  as  may  befall 
them  on  the  present  terms,  we  may  well  leave  them  to  be 
themselves  the  judges  of  what  is  good  for  them.  All  ad- 
vances towards  a  closer  political  connection  must  come  from 
their  side.  Let  each  colony,  if  it  feels  uneasy  anywhere, 
make  its  wishes  known,  and  let  each  desire  be  considered 
as  it  rises  on  its  own  merits.  General  comprehensive 
schemes  will  almost  certainly  fail ;  they  will  fail  assuredly  if 
suggested  from  England.  We  have  not  deserved  the  entire 
confidence  of  our  colonies  ;  all  that  we  have  ever  done,  or 


Instruments  of  Union.  225 

tried  to  do,  in  this  connection  has  been  in  relation  to  some  in- 
terests of  our  own,  and  fine  professions  of  generous  views  will 
only  seem  suspicious.  Anything  which  they  consider  would 
be  for  their  good,  unless  it  be  itself  unreasonable,  ought  to 
be  done  ;  but  we  had  better  wait  for  them  to  ask  it.  Even 
as  concerns  the  fleet  and  the  flag,  the  advances  must  be  made 
by  them. 

But  we  are  ourselves  the  distributors  of  our  own  honours, 
and  of  the  high  places  in  our  own  professions.  I  do  not  see  why 
eminent  colonial  judges  should  not,  if  they  wish  it,  be  trans- 
ferred from  their  bench  to  ours.  Service  at  a  colonial  bar 
might  be  as  sufficient  a  qualification  as  service  in  the  law 
courts  at  home.  The  order  of  St.  Michael  and  St.  George  was 
created  especially  to  decorate  colonists  ;  but  why  make  a  dis- 
tinction ?  The  Garter  we  know  is  never  given  for  merit,  and 
therefore  they  would  not  aspire  to  so  supreme  a  dignity  ;  but 
why  not  admit  them"  to  the  Bath  ?  Intellect  and  worth,  wherever 
found,  ought  to  circulate  freely  through  all  the  arteries  of  the 
empire.  We  should  place  their  old  men  in  the  Privy  Council ; 
we  should  invite  their  young  men  into  the  army  and  navy  and 
Indian  service  ;  and  promotion  should  know  no  difference  be- 
tween English,  Scots,  Canadians,  Australians,  and  South  Afri- 
cans. Every  single  colonist  in  the  service  of  the  nation  would 
be  a  fibre  of  the  great  roots  which  hold  us  all  together.  These 
things  are  easy,  and  when  facilities  are  wanting  we  can  create 
them,  without  disturbing  existing  arrangements.  It  may  be 
said  that  all  this  field  is  already  open.  If  a  young  Australian 
lawyer  will  come  to  England  as  Copley  came,  he,  like  Copley, 
may  sit  upon  the  woolsack.  Yes,  but  it  will  be  by  ceasing  to 
be  an  Australian  ;  and  the  provincial  character  which  may 
fitly  lose  itself  in  the  Imperial  greatness  of  '  Oceana,'  ought 
not  to  be  merged  in  the  constitution  of  Great  Britain — at 
least  till  Great  Britain  has  come  frankly  to  admit  the  equality 
of  the  colonies  with  herself. 
15 


226  Oceana. 

For  the  rest,  ample  as  is  the  freedom  which  the  self-governed 
colonies  now  possess,  I  would  give  them  some  more  if  they 
desire  it.  We  have  bestowed  on  them  parliamentary  institu- 
tions formed  after  our  own  model.  But  it  does  not  follow 
that  this  particular  form  of  government  is  the  best  for  all 
times  and  all  countries.  The  British  constitution,  with  its 
two  parties  alternately  taking  the  helm,  has  grown  out  of 
our  national  circumstances.  It  has  been  a  contrivance  for 
conducting  peacefully  the  transition  from  the  feudal  Eng- 
land of  the  Plantagenets  to  the  England  of  liberty  and  equal- 
ity. For  better  and  worse  it  has  answered  that  purpose,  and 
may  for  a  time  continue  to  answer  it.  But  beyond  the  Eng- 
land of  equality  there  may  be  further  changes.  Nothing  in 
this  world  reaches  its  final  shape  till  it  dies  ;  and  England  is 
not  dead.  There  are  already  signs  that  even  at  home  parties 
have  lost  their  original  outlines,  that  they  are  degenerating 
into  factions,  and  forget  the  interests  of  the  empire  in  their 
mutual  animosities.  In  the  colonies  there  are  no  natural  par- 
ties at  all ;  they  have  to  be  created  artificially  :  and  it  is  likely 
that,  if  left  to  themselves,  Canadians  and  Australians  would 
have  preferred  a  government  on  the  model  of  the  American, 
where  a  president  is  chosen  directly  by  the  people  for  a  period 
of  years.  In  the  president  rests  the  supreme  executive  au- 
thority. He  chooses  his  own  ministers  ;  he  is  responsible  to 
the  nation  and  not  to  congress  ;  his  cabinet  is  not  liable  to 
be  displaced  by  factious  combinations,  and  for  his  term  of 
office  he  is  able  to  follow  some  consistent  and  rational  policy. 
In  the  colonies  governments  have  hitherto  been  changed  with 
inconvenient  rapidity.  It  is  possible  that,  weary  of  intrigues 
and  jobs  and  other  phenomena  of  the  British  method,  this  or 
that  colony  may  conclude  that  the  American  is  preferable, 
that  its  affairs  would  be  more  wisely  and  more  economically 
conducted  if  it,  too,  might  elect  its  own  chief,  deliver  him. 
from  the  hands  of  the  legislative  Philistines,  and  give  him 


Political  Organisation.  227 

power  independent  of  them.  Such  a  power  as  this  the  colo- 
nies of  course  would  never  give  to  a  governor  appointed  by 
England.  A  chief  minister  elected  directly  by  the  people 
would  be  the  people's  minister  and  not  the  governor's,  as  in 
fiction  he  is  still  supposed  to  be,  and  the  governor  would  in 
that  case  become  a  superfluity.  Yet,  if  there  was  a  serious 
wish  in  any  colony  to  make  such  a  change,  I  should  be  sorry 
to  see  it  resisted.  A  president  elected  by  the  people  would 
be  as  much  a  representative  of  his  sovereign  as  a  governor 
appointed  by  an  English  minister.  There  would  be  no  change 
of  nationality  unless  the  people  demanded  a  change,  and  if 
they  did  demand  it  an  official  nominee  from  Downing  Street 
would  not  long  remain  an  obstacle.  You  do  not  alienate  men 
by  allowing  them  opportunities  of  improving  their  condition, 
and  a  slack  chain  is  less  easily  broken  than  a  tight  one. 

In  concluding  this  chapter,  I  will  add  a  few  more  words 
about  South  Africa ;  that  country  being  a  most  signal  exam- 
ple of  all  the  faults  in  the  past  methods  of  Colonial  manage- 
ment, and  therefore  a  favourable  specimen  of  the  treatment 
most  to  be  avoided.  South  Africa  is  self-governed,  and  it  is 
not  self-governed.  In  precipitate  haste,  without  forethought 
or  common  consideration,  a  constitution  was  forced  upon  the 
Cape  Colony.  Natal  was  and  is  a  Crown  colony.  The  Trans- 
vaal and  the  Orange  Free  State  are  independent  republics. 
Yet  the  four  states  are  so  interconnected  that  measures 
adopted  in  one  affect  all  the  others,  while  the  governor  of 
the  Cape  Colony,  to  increase  the  confusion,  holds  a  further 
office  of  High  Commissioner  and  protector  of  the  native  tribes. 
From  this  complicity  of  jurisdiction,  there  has  been  some- 
times an  occasion  and  always  a  pretext  for  interference  from 
home.  We  have  relinquished  the  right  to  govern  the  Cape 
Colony  ourselves  ;  we  have  made  it  impossible  for  the  colo- 
nists to  govern  with  the  necessary  independence  ;  and  thus  the 
unlucky  country  has  been  the  prey  of  well-intentioned  philan- 


228  Oceana. 

thropisls,  of  colonial  secretaries  ambitious  of  distinguishing 
themselves,  and  of  internal  factions  fed  by  the  hope  of  Eng- 
lish support.  So  things  must  continue,  and  South  Africa 
will  become  a  second  Ireland  unless  we  choose  between  one 
of  two  courses,  for  no  third  is  possible.  We  cannot  control 
the  interior  States  as  long  as  the  Cape  Colony  is  out  of  our 
hands  and  refuses  its  support.  Therefore,  we  must  either  re- 
voke the  constitution,  so  prematurely  bestowed,  or  we  must, 
bond  fide,  leave  South  Africa  to  govern  itself,  as  Australia  and 
Canada  govern  themselves,  do  away  with  the  High  Commis- 
sionership,  and  cease  to  meddle  in  any  way.  The  first  course 
might  answer,  but  it  cannot  be  adopted  ;  the  colonists  will 
not  willingly  part  with  their  liberties,  and  the  state  of  parties 
at  home  forbids  the  thought  of  high-handed  measures.  The 
alternative  implies  the  surrender  of  the  native  policy  to  the 
colonists.  The  success  of  the  Dutch  in  the  Free  States — a 
small  minority  of  whites  in  the  midst  of  twenty  times  their 
number  of  warlike  blacks — proves  that  a  modus  viuendi  can 
be  found  under  which  the  two  races  can  live  side  by  side,  and 
the  white  man  can  acquire  his  natural  ascendency.  But  if  we 
withdraw,  it  will  be  the  Dutch  method  which  will  be  adopted 
all  over  the  country,  and  not  the  English.  I  should  not  my- 
self object  to  this.  The  Dutch  method,  in  the  long  run,  is 
the  more  merciful  of  the  two.  We  have  killed  hundreds  of 
natives  where  the  Dutch  have  killed  tens.  But  the  Dutch, 
who  are  the  majority,  would  be  virtually  masters  of  South 
Africa.  They  look  on  themselves  as  the  lawful  owners,  and 
on  us  as  intruders.  The  connection  on  such  terms  would 
perhaps  be  found  galling  on  both  sides,  and  further  changes 
might  come  in  view.  Even  to  the  Dutch  the  English  connec- 
tion has  many  advantages.  It  may  not  yet  be  too  late  to  re- 
cover their  confidence,  and  even  their  loyalty.  But  past  ex- 
perience forbids  any  sanguine  hope  that  prejudices  on  both 
sides  so  deeply  rooted  will  easily  be  overcome,  while  the 


Last   Words  on  South  Africa.  229 

problem  is  further  complicated  by  the  naval  station,  which 
we  cannot  afford  to  part  with.  The  possession  of  Simon's 
Bay,  at  the  extreme  south  point  of  Africa,  is  indispensable  to 
us.  It  commands  the  ocean  route  to  India,  which  at  any  time 
may  become  our  only  one.  Whoever  holds  Simon's  Bay, 
holds  at  its  mercy  our  entire  sailing  commerce  with  the  East. 
A  handful  of  privateers  with  their  headquarters  there  might 
capture  or  destroy  every  trading  vessel  passing  outside  it ;  and 
to  hold  the  Cape  peninsula  and  to  let  the  rest  of  the  country 
go  is  declared  to  be  impossible  by  the  political  and  military 
authorities.  Therefore  it  may  be  said  that  we  have  so  twisted 
and  entangled  our  South  African  affairs  that  the  knots  now 
can  neither  be  cut  nor  untied.  Want  of  wisdom  has  brought 
it  about.  We  must  hope  for  more  wisdom  ;  but  where  is 
more  wisdom  to  come  from,  and  how  is  it  to  find  its  way  into 
our  public  offices  ? 


230  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

Sail  for  New  Zealand — The  '  City  of  Sydney ' — Chinese  stewards — An 
Irish  priest — Miscellaneous  passengers — The  American  captain  and 
his  crew — The  North  Cape  —Climate  and  soil  of  New  Zealand — 
Auckland — Sleeping  volcanoes — Mount  Eden — Bishop  Selwyn's 
church  and  residence — Work  and  wages — The  Northern  Club — 
Hospitalities — Harbour  works — Tendency  to  crowd  into  towns — In- 
dustries— A  Senior  Wrangler — Sir  George  Grey — Plans  for  sight- 
seeing. 

ON  February  26tli  we  left  Australia  for  New  Zealand  in  an 
American  steamer  of  between  three  and  four  thousand  tons. 
She  was  going  on  to  San  Francisco,  touching  at  Auckland  on 
the  way,  and  was  called  the  '  City  of  Sydney.'  We  were  able 
to  take  our  tickets  through  to  London  across  the  American 
continent,  either  to  proceed  at  once  or  to  stay  on  the  route 
as  we  pleased.  Our  plan  was  to  remain  in  New  Zealand  for 
a  month,  and  to  follow  in  the  next  monthly  vessel  belonging 
to  the  same  line.  The  telegrams  from  England  were  becom- 
ing warlike.  E who  had  meant  to  extend  his  tour,  de- 
termined to  return  with  us,  at  least-  as  far  as  the  Sandwich 
Islands.  English  travellers,  officers  on  leave,  militia  captains, 
colonels,  &c.,  were  streaming  homewards  from  all  quarters, 
like  flights  of  rooks  to  their  roosting-trees  at  evening,  expect- 
ing that  their  services  might  be  required. 

In  the  '  City  of  Sydney '  we  were  under  the  '  stars  and 
stripes,'  a  flag  always  welcome  to  Englishmen  when  they  can- 
not have  their  own.  She  was  a  handsome  ship  to  look  at, 
smart  and  well-appointed.  Her  captain  was  a  man  of  thirty, 
gentlemanlike,  but  with  the  cool  indifferent  manners  of  his 
countrymen.  We  regretted  our  old  '  Australasian ' — we  could 


The  City  of  Sydney.  231 

not  hope  for  such  quarters  as  we  had  found  there ;  her  we 
left  at  Sydney,  taking  on  board  the  Soudan  contingent.  But 
we  had  been  well  off  all  along,  and  we  took  our  chance  with 
no  great  alarm.  As  we  steamed  out  of  the  harbour  we  were 
attended  by  a  large  launch  crowded  with  ladies  and  gentle- 
men who  were  cheering  and  waving  handkerchiefs.  Evi- 
dently we  had  some  one  on  board  who  was  a  special  favourite, 
and  we  distinguished  the  object  of  these  attentions  in  a  young 
Irish  priest  who  was  starting  for  home. 

I  and  my  son  had  a  state-room  on  deck  to  ourselves,  very 
pleasantly  situated,  with  a  gallery  outside,  between  us  and  the 
sea,  so  that  we  could  keep  our  windows  open  in  all  weathers. 
The  cabin-boys,  under-stewards,  &c.,  were  Chinese,  the  first 
with  whom  we  had  come  in  contact  in  a  domestic  capacity — 
little  brown  fellows  in  flowing  dresses  of  blue  calico  with  gilt 
buttons  or  clasps,  a  soft  smile  on  their  faces,  and  their  pig- 
tails coiled  in  a  knob  upon  their  heads,  to  be  let  down  when 
in  full  dress  at  dinner-time.  Noiselessly  the  little  creatures 
moved  about  in  slippered  feet,  and  were  infinitely  obliging 
and  engaging.  Though  it  was  out  of  feeding  hours  when  we 
went  on  board,  and  the  ship's  rules  were  strict,  they  brought 
us  luncheon  to  our  cabin.  So  far  as  waiting  attentions  would 
secure  our  comfort  we  felt  at  ease  at  once.  My  difficulty  was 
that  there  were  many  of  them  running  about,  and  I  could  not 
distinguish  one  from  another.  The  shepherd  knows  his 
sheep,  and  I  suppose  that  to  Chinamen  the  separate  personali- 
ties are  as  easily  recognised  as  ours.  To  me  they  seemed 
only  what  Schopenhauer  says  that  all  individual  existences 
are  :  '  accidental  illustrations  of  a  single  idea  under  the  con- 
ditions of  space  and  time.' 

The  cook  of  the  '  Australasian '  had  spoilt  us  for  average 
passenger  steamer  fare.  The  saloon  was  crowded  ;  we  had 
to  scramble  for  seats  at  the  table.  The  dinner,  when  it  came, 
was  served  American  fashion  :  a  multitude  of  small,  ill-dressed 


232  Oceana. 

dishes  huddled  round  one's  plate.  We  grumbled,  perhaps 
audibly.  But  if  their  food  is  not  poisonous,  sensible  people 
remember  nothing  about  it  five  minutes  after  it  is  done  with. 
We  were  in  fine  health  and  spirits.  The  evening  on  deck  was 
delightful,  the  sea  like  a  mirror,  the  air  tropically  soft,  the 
twilight  sliding  into  night,  and  the  stars  shining  out  calm  and 
soft  and  clear.  I  made  acquaintance  with  the  young  priest. 
His  coat  was  threadbare,  his  cheeks  were  lean,  his  eyes  were 
eager  and  dreamy.  We  talked  much,  and  at  first  chiefly  on 
theology.  I  observed  in  him  what  I  have  seen  iu  many  Catho- 
lics lately,  since  it  has  become  their  role  to  fall  iu  with  modern 
ideas — a  profession  of  respect  for  the  rights  of  conscience. 
Every  man,  he  said,  was  bound  to  act  according  to  his  own 
honestly  entertained  convictions.  For  a  Protestant  to  become 
a  Catholic,  unless  he  was  converted  at  heart  to  the  truth  of 
Catholic  doctrines,  would  be  a  mortal  ski.  To  constrain  the 
conscience  by  temporal  pains  and  penalties  was  wicked.  It 
would  follow,  though  he  did  not  say  so,  that  a  Catholic  whose 
faith  in  the  Church  became  shaken,  might  lawfully — indeed 
must — become  a  Protestant  What  Liberal  could  desire 
more? 

A  lady  convert  to  Romanism  once  told  me  that  she  had 
'  gone  over '  out  of  prudence.  Protestants  admitted  that 
Catholics  might  be  saved.  Catholics  insisted  that  out  of  the 
Church  there  was  no  salvation  possible,  therefore  the  safest 
place  was  with  them.  I  supposej  according  to  my  young 
friend's  view  of  the  matter,  this  was  a  sin.  I  could  not  share 
his  opinion  that  it  was  right  for  average  people  to  go  by  their 
own  judgment  in  so  serious  a  matter  as  religion.  Average 
men  are  too  ignorant  to  be  capable  of  forming  a  judgment  on 
such  subjects.  I  found  myself,  rather  to  my  amusement, 
arguing  with  a  priest  in  defence  of  authority.  I  asked  him 
whether  an  officer  who  was  not  satisfied  about  the  justice  of 
any  particular  war  ought  to  refuse  to  fight  and  to  abandon 


JTie  City  of  Sydney.  233 

the  profession  of  Iris  life.  He  saw  no  difficulty  in  deciding 
that  the  officer  would  be  bound  to  throw  up  his  commission. 
I  might  have  asked  him  whether  he  held  Luther  to  have  been 
right  in  leaving  the  Church  when  he  came  to  the  conclusion 
that  the  Church  was  teaching  lies.  But  I  did  not  wish  to  be 
captious  ;  I  thought  him  an  innocent  and  interesting  person, 
and  rather  liked  him.  On  further  acquaintance  I  found  that 
he  was  not  a  priest  only  but  a  patriot,  and  that  he  was  going 
back  to  Ireland,  not  on  business  of  his  order,  but  to  witness, 
and  perhaps  assist  at,  the  resurrection  of  his  country.  Patriot- 
ism was  hereditary  with  him  :  he  was  the  great-nephew  of 
Father  John,  who  commanded  the  "Wexford  insurgents  at 
Vinegar  Hill.  He  had  written  a  book,  said  to  be  popular,  on 
the  rising  of  1798,  and  was  about  to  write  another.  He  did 
not  wish  to  separate  Ireland  from  England.  Restore  to  Ire- 
land the  constitution  of  1782,  he  said,  and  all  would  be  well. 
Englishmen  and  Irishmen,  Protestants  and  Catholics,  lambs 
and  lions  would  lie  down  together,  and  the  new  era  would 
begin.  No  one  seems  to  remember  that  the  constitution  of 
1782  was  Protestant  ascendency — the  Upas  tree  in  fullest 
leaf.  Catholics  had  not  so  much  as  votes  at  the  elections  for 
Grattan's  Irish  Parliament,  and  obtained  them  only  on  Eng- 
land's insistance.  They  might  have  waited  till  Doomsday  in 
the  afternoon  before  the  Irish  gentry  would  have  deliberately 
committed  suicide  by  opening  the  doors  to  them.  I  seemed 
now  to  understand  the  sudden  zeal  for  toleration.  •  If  Irish 
Emancipation  was  to  be  anything  save  a  signal  for  civil  war, 
the  strife  of  creeds  must  cease  and  the  Protestant  North  must 
be  conciliated  to  the  Catholic  South.  The  idea  was  not  new  ; 
the  original  leaders  in  1798,  Wolf  Tone,  Hamilton  Rowan, 
&c.,  were  not  Catholics.  The  chief  of  the  Irish  Parliamentary 
party,  Ireland's  present  '  uncrowned  king,'  is  not  a  Catholic. 
In  the  obliteration  of  religious  party  lines  lies  the  hope  of 
every  rational  Irishman  who  desires  the  repeal  of  the  Act  of 


234  Oceana. 

Union.  They  have  the  sense  to  see  that  to  revive  the  princi- 
ples of  1641,  and  retaliate  on  Protestant  ascendency  by  Catho- 
lic despotism  would  make  an  end  of  them  and  their  cause — 
this  time  for  ever.  I  believe  myself  that,  with  or  without 
toleration,  the  revival  of  an  Irish  nationality  is  equally  a 
dream.  No  cause  ever  prospered  which  was  initiated  by 
dynamite  explosions  and  murders  and  repudiated  contracts. 
The  modern  movement  must  come  at  last,  as  all  similar  move- 
ments have  come  in  times  past,  to  broken  heads.  Nationali- 
ties are  not  to  be  made  by  Parliamentary  oratory  flavoured  by 
assassination.  Yet  there  was  something  interesting  and  even 
pathetic  to  me  in  the  conversation  of  this  new  victim  of  the 
old  illusion. 

It  was  late  summer,  answering  to  the  end  of  our  August. 
In  the  latitude  of  35°  the  temperature  of  the  sea-water  was 
76°,  the  air  was  motionless,  the  Pacific,  on  which  we  were 
now  entering,  unruffled  by  the  smallest  wave  ;  but  even  under 
these  conditions  we  could  sleep  soundly  and  peacefully.  The 
absolutely  pure  atmosphere  flows  over  deck  and  through 
cabin  in  the  soft  breeze  which  is  due  to  the  vessel's  motion. 
In  the  morning,  I  was  just  conscious  of  some  object  flitting 
about  my  berth.  When  I  roused  myself  I  found  my  faithful 
'  Johnnie  '  had  arranged  clothes  and  washing  things  with  the 
silence  and  neatness  of  a  Brownie.  There  was  a  spacious 
deck-house  dignified  by  the  name  of  the  Social  Hall,  where 
the  passengers  collected  before  breakfast,  and  which  was  all 
day  their  favourite  lounge.  When  I  entered,  there  was  a 
miscellaneous  crowd  there  of  all  sorts  and  nations.  'Sir,' 
said  one  of  them  rising  and  addressing  himself  to  me,  in  a 
loud  voice,  '  St.  Paul  says,  Corinthians  ii.  7.'  He  stopped. 
I  waited  to  hear  what  St.  Paul  had  said,  but  nothing  came, 
so  I  bowed.  He  then  began  again  to  all  of  us,  '  St.  Paul,  in 
Ephesians  v.'  But  he  advanced  no  further,  and  sate  down, 
looking  round  him  with  importance.  There  were  many  colo- 


Colonial  Passengers.  235 

nists  on  board  of  a  type  somewhat  different  from  those  that 
1  had  hitherto  met.  They  were  good  people,  but  a  little 
consequential,  and  presuming  that  I  wanted  information, 
were  eager  to  bestow  it  upon  me.  '  I,  sir,'  said  one,  '  was 
for  three  years  in  Her  Majesty's  service.  I  was  second 
manager  of  Her  Majesty's  Kangaroo  Department ;  I  was 
Director-General  of  such  and  such  a  company  ;  I  was  treas- 
urer of  this  or  that  colonial  society.  You  desire  to  under- 
stand the  colonies.  Without  wishing  to  boast,  I  can  assure 
you  that  you  will  find  no  one  better  able  to  instruct  you  than 
myself,'  &c.  'Excuse  me,  sir,'  said  another,  'but  I  cannot 
regard  you  as  a  stranger.  I  have  read  your  estimable  writ- 
ings, sir.  Permit  me  to  introduce  myself,  I  am  Mr.  T ,' 

and  he  produced  his  card.  There  were  several  more  of  the 
same  kind.  To  myself  they  were  most  agreeable,  for  they 
were  always  amusing  one  way  or  another,  and  they  conveyed 
to  me  the  average  opinion  of  successful  colonists  who  had 
made  money  and  represented  colonial  sentiment.  What  they 
had  to  tell  me  was  to  the  same  effect  precisely  as  what  I  had 
heard  before.  Recent  newspapers  had  brought  out  Lord 
Grey's  letters  recommending  the  constitution  of  the  agents- 
general  into  a  Committee  of  the  Privy  Council.  They  all 
laughed  at  it.  Privy  Councillors  we  might  make  them,  if  we 
cared  to  give  and  they  to  accept  the  title  of  Eight  Honourable  ; 
but  to  entrust  them  as  a  corporate  body  with  political  power 
was  what  no  colonist  would  hear  of.  They  agreed  with  me 
in  wishing  to  have  some  one  to  speak  for  them  to  the  public 
at  large,  independent  of  the  Colonial  Office  ;  the  people  were 
now  sovereign,  and  it  was  always  better  to  deal  with  princi- 
pals than  with  subordinates  ;  but  they  repudiated,  as  every- 
one else  had  done,  the  notion  of  colonial  representative  Peers. 
A  colonist  might  be  created  a  Peer,  like  anyone  else.  There 
were  Knights  and  Baronets  already,  and  the  ladies  of  their 
families  were  supposed  to  like  it.  A  peerage  or  two  would 


236  Oceana. 

be  no  great  innovation,  provided  it  were  understood  to  mean 
nothing.  But  peers  evidently  were  held  cheap  among  them, 
and  Tennyson,  it  was  supposed,  must  have  been  losing  his 
wits  when  he  consented  to  receive  so  ambiguous  an  elevation. 

The  American  captain  was  good  company  when  one  got 
over  the  brusqueness  of  his  manner.  He  told  me  a  singular 
thing.  I  had  been  looking  at  his  crew,  and  had  been  puzzled 
to  make  out  what  they  were,  or  how  he  had  picked  them  up. 
'  I  make  a  rule,'  he  said,  '  when  I  engage  my  men  for  a  voyage, 
to  take  no  English,  no  Scotch,  no  Irish,  no  Americans.  There 
is  no  getting  along  with  them.  They  go  a-shore  in  harbour, 
get  drunk,  get  into  prison,  give  me  nothing  but  trouble.  It 
is  the  same  with  them  all,  my  people  and  yours  equally.' 
'  Then  whom  do  you  take  ?  '  I  asked  in  astonishment.  '  I 
take  Danes,'  he  answered  ;  '  I  take  Norwegians,  Germans, 
Swedes  ;  all  of  these  I  can  trust.  They  are  sober,  they  make 
no  row,  are  never  in  the  hands  of  the  police.  They  save  their 
wages,  are  always  quiet  and  respectable,  and  I  know  that  I 
can  depend  on  them.  The  firemen,  ship's  servants,  &c.,  are 
Chinamen,  I  can  trust  them  too.'  I  recollect  a  Portuguese 
nigger  at  the  island  of  St.  Vincent  once  showing  me,  with  a 
grin,  an  iron-grated  cage,  and  telling  me  it  was  specially  re- 
served for  English  sailors.  At  the  time  I  thought  him  a  ma- 
licious lying  rascal — one  never  knows  about  these  things. 

The  second  day  out  the  captain  promoted  us  to  his  own 
table  in  the  saloon,  where  the  fare  was  slightly  improved. 
The  weather  continued  perfectly  fine  ;  the  colour  of  the  water 
appeared  to  me — perhaps  it  was  fancy — a  little  different  in 
the  Pacific  from  what  it  is  in  the  South  Atlantic  and  Indian 
Ocean.  Always  the  colour  of  sea-water  is  due  to  the  radia- 
tion of  the  light  of  the  sky  upwards,  either  from  the  bottom 
when  it  is  shallow,  or  when  out  of  soundings  frdm  organic 
particles  floating  in  solution  like  motes  in  the  air.  Elsewhere 
the  deep  ocean  is  violet  tinted :  Homer's  wrciSi/s.  Between 


Books  at  Sea.  237 

Australia  and  New  Zealand  it  was  sapphire,  occasionally  thick- 
ening into  turquoise. 

A  library  is  always  part  of  the  stock  of  a  modern  ocean 
steamer.  There  are  religious  books— some  people  read  noth- 
ing else — there  are  books  of  travels  for  those  who  want  to  be 
entertained  without  feeling  that  they  are  wasting  their  time. 
The  great  proportion  are  novels,  generally,  but  not  always, 
well-selected.  I  observed  one,  by ,  and  being  curi- 
ous to  see  what  manner  of  man  he  might  be  who  had  been 
sitting  in  judgment  on  Carlyle,  I  looked  through  it.  The 
story  was  of  a  high  church  rector,  who  seduced  his  church 
organist,  fell  in  love  with  his  friend's  wife,  then,  to  make  all 
right,  went  in  violently  for  religion,  and  ended  in  turning 
Papist.  It  seemed  to  me  to  be  the  worst  book  I  had  ever 
read  ;  but  perhaps  I  was  prejudiced.  I  took  the  taste  out 
with  Charles  Reade's  'Peg  Woffington.'  I  liked  this  well 
enough,  but  it  is  a  play,  and  not  a  novel ;  all  the  situations 
are  dramatic,  and,  with  a  few  verbal  changes,  it  could  be 
brought  on  the  stage.  After  all  I  had  to  fall  back  on  my  own 
supply,  Homer  and  Horace,  Pindar  and  Sophocles.  These 
are  the  immortal  lights  in  the  intellectual  sky,  and  shine  on 
unaffected  by  the  wrecks  of  empires  or  the  changes  of  creeds. 
In  them  you  find  human  nature,  the  same  yesterday,  to-day, 
and  for  ever.  These  great  ones  are  beyond  the  power  of  Fate, 
and  no  intellectual  revolution  can  shake  them  from  their 
thrones.  I  have  sometimes  thought  that  the  human  race  has 
passed  its  spiritual  zenith,  and  will  never  more  bring  forth 
kings  such  as  they. 

The  distance  from  Sydney  to  Auckland  is  eleven  hundred 
miles — a  five  days'  passage,  for  we  took  things  leisurely  and 
economised  coaL  The  time  went  pleasantly,  and  we  did  not 
find  it  too  long.  In  the  afternoon  of  March  2  we  passed  the 
North  Cape  of  New  Zealand,  and  the  hill  to  which  the  Maori 
chiefs  were  carried,  dying,  that  they  might  take  their  depart- 


238  Oceana. 

ure  from  it  into  the  unknown  world.  We  saw  nothing  to 
explain  the  custom,  save  that  the  northern  point  of  the  island 
might  be  supposed  to  be  nearest  the  sun  ;  otherwise,  it  is  like 
other  Land's  Ends,  a  high,  stern,  barren,  sea-and-wind-swept 
promontory.  Auckland  is  on  the  east  side  of  the  island. 
After  doubling  the  point  we  turned  south,  and  ran  for  a  hun- 
dred miles  along  the  shore.  The  sea  swarms  with  fish,  but 
there  were  no  fishermen  looking  for  them,  and  singularly  few 
sea-gulls — I  cannot  tell  why,  as  there  is  such  abundant  food 
for  them.  There  being  a  telegraph  wire  to  Auckland,  we 
should  find  news  five  days  later  than  the  last  which  we  had 
heard.  We  were  all  anxious.  What  had  happened  in  Egypt, 
what  on  the  Afghan  frontier,  what  in  Ireland,  what  at  home  ? 
The  expectation  was  that  the  Ministry  would  have  fallen,  and 
I  may  say  that  all  through  my  travels  I  did  not  meet  a  single 
person  to  whom  that  news  at  least  would  not  have  been  wel- 
come hearing.  But  we  were  now  close  upon  a  new  and  an 
intensely  interesting  country,  and  I  believe  I  was  thinking 
more  about  this  than  about  House  of  Commons  division-lists. 
New  Zealand  is  composed  of  two  long  islands  lying  north 
and  south,  with  a  narrow  strait  between  them,  and  a  further 
small  island  of  no  consequence  at  the  south  extremity.  The 
extreme  length  of  the  three  is  1,100  miles,  with  an  average 
breadth  of  140.  The  climate  ranges  from  that  of  Naples  in 
the  Bay  of  Islands,  to  that  of  Scotland  at  Foveaux  Strait. 
There  is  abundant  rainfall ;  there  are  great  livers,  mountains, 
volcanoes,  a  soil  luxuriantly  rich,  a  splendid  clothing  of  mag- 
nificent forest.  So  far  as  the  natural  features  of  a  country 
tend  to  produce  a  fine  race  of  men,  New  Zealand  has  the  ad- 
vantage of  Australia.  Australia,  too,  has  hills  and  rivers, 
woods  and  fertile  lands,  but  unless  in  the  heated  plains  of  the 
interior,  which  are  sublime  in  their  desolation,  it  has  nothing 
to  touch  the  imagination,  nothing  to  develop  varieties  of  char- 
acter. In  New  Zealand  there  are  mountain  ranges  grander 


First  8ight  of  New  Zealand.  239 

than  the  giant  bergs  of  Norway  ;  there  are  glaciers  and  water- 
falls for  the  hardy  hillmen  ;  there  are  the  sheep-walks  for  the 
future  Meliboeus  or  shepherd  of  Salisbury  Plain  ;  there  are 
the  rich  farm-lands  for  the  peasant  yeomen  ;  and  the  coasts 
with  their  inlets  and  infinite  varieties,  are  a  nursery  for  sea- 
men, who  will  carry  forward  the  traditions  of  the  old  land. 
No  Arden  ever  saw  such  forests,  and  no  lover  ever  carved  his 
mistress's  name  on  such  trees  as  are  scattered  over  the  North- 
ern Island,  while  the  dullest  intellect  quickens  into  awe  and 
reverence  amidst  volcanoes  and  boiling  springs  and  the  mighty 
forces  of  nature,  which  seem  as  if  any  day  they  might  break 
their  chains.  Even  the  Maories,  a  mere  colony  of  Polynesian 
savages,  grew  to  a  stature  of  mind  and  body  in  New  Zealand 
which  no  branch  of  that  race  has  approached  elsewhere.  If 
it  lies  written  in  the  book  of  destiny  that  the  English  nation 
has  still  within  it  great  men  who  will  take  a  place  among  the 
demigods,  I  can  well  believe  that  it  will  be  in  the  unexhausted 
soil  and  spiritual  capabilities  of  New  Zealand,  that  the  great 
English  poets,  artists,  philosophers,  statesmen,  soldiers  of  the 
future  will  be  born  and  nurtured. 

The  North  Island  is,  of  course,  the  warmest  of  the  two. 
Oleanders  flower  in  the  gardens  there,  and  orange-trees  grow 
in  the  orchards,  and  the  fern  palm  in  the  woods.  Auckland, 
which  we  were  approaching,  has  the  average  temperature  of 
the  Eiviera.  It  is  one  of  the  oldest  settlements  in  the  islands, 
and  is  interesting,  independent  of  other  reasons,  as  the  home 
of  Bishop  Selwyn  and  Bishop  Pattison.  It  lies  deeply  embayed 
behind  the  islets  of  the  Hauraki  Gulf.  Nature  has  been  busy 
with  her  scissors,  clipping  out  bays  and  inlets  on  both  sides 
of  the  island  till  at  this  particular  spot  she  has  almost  cut  it 
in  two.  The  isthmus  on  which  Auckland  stands  is  but  seven 
miles  wide.  On  the  east  side  is  the  Hauraki  Gulf,  on  the 
west  the  great  harbour  of  Manakau,  which  is  as  large  as  Port 
Philip  ;  and  Auckland  would  have  two  ports,  one  in  either 


24:0  Oce<ma. 

sea,  but  for  a  bar  between  the  Heads  of  Manakau,  over  which 
only  vessels  of  light  draught  can  pass.  The  approach 
through  the  gulf  is  very  beautiful  Small  islands  are  spread 
along  the  shore,  forming  a  breakwater,  through  which  the 
channel  winds.  Those  furthest  towards  the  ocean  are  high 
and  hogbacked,  with  serrated  mountainous  outlines ;  those 
nearest  in  are  recently  extinct  volcanoes,  so  recently  that  on 
one  of  the  largest  of  them  the  cinders  on  its  slopes  are  not  yet 
decomposed  ;  and  though  it  is  covered  with  trees  the  ascent 
is  so  rough  as  to  be  impracticable  for  horse  or  man.  On  the 
mainland,  all  across  the  isthmus,  rise  grass-covered  craters, 
which  seem  as  if  at  any  moment  they  might  open  fire  again. 
At  Mount  Eden,  on  the  skirts  of  the  city,  the  slag  lies  in  a 
heap  at  the  bottom  of  the  bowl,  as  if  it  had  cooled  but  a  few 
years  ago.  The  country  round  is  littered  with  ash  and  scoria 
which  were  vomited  out  of  Mount  Eden  and  its  companions, 
and  half  the  city  stands  on  rock  which  was  once  fluid  lava. 
Everything  speaks  of  volcanic  action,  certainly  within  the 
last  few  centuries.  Vesuvius  and  Etna  slept  for  ages  and 
burst  out  again  ;  so  may  Mount  Eden,  and  the  yet  more  sus- 
picious mountain  island  which  closes  in  the  bay. 

Spartacus  and  his  brother  gladiators  lived  among  the  vines 
in  the  crater  of  Vesuvius.  These  fireplaces  of  Nature  in  New 
Zealand  were  the  houses  and  strongholds  of  the  Maories. 
All  this  part  of  the  country  was  densely  peopled  by  them 
when  it  was  first  discovered.  They  preferred  the  northern 
island,  probably  because  it  was  warmer,  and  the  Auckland 
isthmus,  as  commanding  the  communication  between  the  two 
parts  of  it,  was  occupied  by  them  in  force.  Six  or  seven  of  the 
volcanic  hills  round  Auckland  were  fortified  strongholds,  all 
scarped  and  trenched  and  terraced  as  neatly  as  the  old  Koman 
camps.  Their  families  are  supposed  to  have  lived  within 
the  lines,  which,  if  palisades  were  added  lo  the  spadework, 
must  have  been  impregnable  ;  and  the  tribe  or  tribes  which 


Maori  Fortifications.  241 

held  these  positions,  it  is  plain  from  their  structure,  must 
have  had  very  considerable  intelligence.  Yet  there  is  the 
same  phenomenon  which  puzzles  us  about  so  many  British 
and  even  Roman  camps  which  were  laid  out  on  the  tops  of 
hills.  Mount  Eden  is  800  feet  high.  It  is  waterless,  and 
every  drop  of  water  which  the  garrison  or  the  inhabitants  re- 
quired must  have  been  carried  up  from  below. 

We  had  intended  to  visit  both  Islands,  to  see  Welling- 
ton, Christchurch,  Dunedin,  see  Lake  Maniponi,  Lake  Waka- 
tipu  and  the  New  Zealand  Alps  ;  we  found  that  the  distances 
were  so  great  and  the  means  of  accomplishing  them  so 
liiniteJ,  that  half  our  time  would  be  spent  in  coasting 
steamers.  In  trying  to  see  everything,  we  should  see  noth- 
ing properly,  and  we  had  to  limit  our  ambition.  There  has 
not  been  time  for  local  varieties  of  character  to  form  among 
the  colonists.  After  learning  what  people  were  thinking  and 
saying  in  Auckland,  we  should  know  tolerably  what  they 
thought  and  said  elsewhere.  In  the  North  Island  only  should 
we  have  a  chance  of  seeing  anything  of  the  Maori ;  and 
though  Wellington  was  the  seat  of  government,  and  we 
should  miss  the  Governor  and  his  political  surroundings,  we 
determined  to  take  Auckland  as  our  head-quarters  and  make 
excursions  from  it  into  the  interior.  In  this  way,  we  could 
secure  a  sight  of  the  hot  springs  and  Geysers  and  other 
natural  curiosities.  Above  all,  I  could  make  sure  of  seeing 
the  to  us  most  interesting  person  or  thing  which  New  Zea- 
land contained — my  old  acquaintance,  Sir  George  Grey,  of 
whom  we  had  heard  in  England,  as  leading  a  Robinson 
Crusoe  kind  of  existence  on  a  solitary  island  in  the  Hauraki 
Gulf.  The  sight  of  New  Zealand  gave  me  very  strange  sen- 
sations Forty  years  before  I  had  thought  of  immigrating 
and  settling  there.  It  was  at  the  revolutionary  time  which 
preceded  the  convulsions  of  1848,  when  the  air  was  full  of 

socialism  and  republican  equality.     Arthur  Clough  and  I  had 
16 


242  Oceana. 

come  to  a  conclusion  that  we  had  no  business  to  be  '  gentle- 
men,' that  we  ought  to  work  with  our  hands,  &c.,  and  so  we 
proposed  to  come  to  this  place  and  turn  farmers.  Clough 
wrote  his  '  Bothy  of  Tober  na  Fuosich,'  constructed  a  hero 
who  should  be  the  double  of  himself,  married  him  to  a  High- 
land lassie,  and  sent  them  off  instead.  I,  with  all  my  life 
lying  behind  me,  was  here  at  last,  but  was  flitting  by  like  a 
ghost. 

Thus  then,  on  the  morning  of  March  4th,  the  '  City  of 
Sydney '  swept  round  a  projecting  headland,  and  we  saw  the 
white  houses  of  Auckland,  spread  along  the  shore  of  a  land- 
locked bay.  A  few  ships  rested  at  their  anchors,  or  lay  along 
the  wooden  piers,  taking  in,  or  discharging,  cargo.  The 
town  rose  steeply  from  the  water-side,  with  Mount  Eden  be- 
hind it.  Great  works  were  in  progress ;  labourers  were 
swarming  like  bees,  cutting  away  a  huge  projecting  cliff  to 
enlarge  the  area  of  the  port.  Bishop  Selwyn's  church — the 
first  built  in  New  Zealand — stood  on  the  top  of  the  precipice, 
and  we  arrived  just  in  time  to  see  the  roofless  walls  before 
they  disappeared  in  the  falling  rubbish.  In  a  few  days  the 
church  was  gone.  Sentiment  belongs  to  leisure,  and  in  the 
colonies,  just  now,  they  have  none  of  either.  The  pilot  who 
joined  us  in  the  offing  had  brought  a  newspaper ;  we  learnt 
about  the  vote  of  censure,  and  the  Government  majority  re- 
duced to  fourteen.  I  fear  no  one  regretted  the  end  which 
seemed  rapidly  approaching.  The  universal  feeling,  outside 
England,  towards  the  leader  of  the  Liberal  party,  who  has 
been,  and  perhaps  is,  so  adored  at  home,  has  become  blind 
in  its  animosity.  He  once  fallen,  people  seemed  to  expect 
that  all  the  woes  of  which  the  empire  was  sick,  would  vanish 
like  an  unwholesome  fog.  Unfortunately  they  will  not  so 
vanish.  When  men  sow  the  wind,  the  seed  will  grow, 
though  others  may  have  to  reap  the  harvest  The  good 
people  of  Auckland  at  any  rate  had  little  to  complain  of.  If 


Auckland.  243 

•war  came  with  Russia,  there  was  nothing  for  them  to  fear 
from  the  cruisers  from  the  Amoor  ;  no  gathered  wealth  to 
tempt  cupidity.  Meanwhile  it  was  the  workman's  paradise. 
The  four  eights,  that  ideal  of  operative  felicity,  are  here  a 
realised  fact.1  Eight  shillings  a  day  are  the  common  wages, 
and  no  able-bodied  man  who  wants  employment  is  at  a  loss 
to  find  it.  Beef  is  sixpence  a  pound,  and  that  is  considered 
dear.  Bread  is  not  dearer  than  in  England ;  fruit  and 
vegetables  as  much  cheaper  as  they  are  superior  in  quality. 
Outdoor  grapes  may  be  had  for  the  asking,  and  are  good 
enough  for  all  ordinary  appetites.  There  are  grapes  grown 
under  glass,  for  those  who  can  only  be  satisfied  with  expen- 
sive luxuries.  These  are  three  and  sixpence  a  pound,  and 
are  reserved  for  the  privileged  classes.  A  poor  clergyman's 
wife  with  a  sick  husband  was  tempted  by  the  handsome 
bunches  which  she  saw  in  a  shop  window.  She  laid  them 
down  with  a  sigh  when  she  was  told  the  price.  The  shopman 
pitied  her.  '  'Tisn't  the  likes  of  you/  he  said,  '  that  can  afford 
them  grapes ;  we  keep  thern  for  the  working  men's  ladies.' 

The  quay  was  thronged  when  we  brought  up.  One  did  not 
see  why,  for  the  crowd  was  only  collected  to  stare  at  the 
steamer  and  passengers.  It  seemed  as  if  the  people  were  so 
well  off  that  they  could  afford  to  lounge  about  like  idle  gentle- 
men. They  were  well-fed,  well-dressed,  and  well-humoured, 
with  rather  more  republican  equality  in  their  manners  than  I 
had  observed  in  Australia,  but  nothing  rude  or  offensive.  We 
were  going  to  a  '  club '  again,  that  colonial  institution,  so 
peculiarly  precious  to  travellers,  who  are  thus  spared  the 
nuisances  of  hotels.  The  Northern  Club,  to  which  we  had 
been  invited,  was  high  up  the  hill — a  staring,  unbeautiful 
building,  but  internally  of  ascertained  excellence.  We  were 
soon  established  there,  and  found  at  once  a  number  of  ready- 
made  friends,  all  anxious  to  be  of  use  to  us  Interviewers 

1  Eight  to  work,  eight  to  play,  eight  to  sleep,  and  eight  shillings  a  day. 


244  Oceana. 

were  also  clown  upon  us,  demanding  our  opinion,  as  if  at  the 
pistol's  mouth,  about  confederation,  about  the  Egyptian  war, 
about  the  quarrel  with  Russia,  the  House  of  Commons  vote, 
the  New  South  Wales  contingent,  &c.  First,  and  above  all, 
what  did  we  think  of  New  Zealand  ?  As  at  the  moment  we 
had  been  but  two  hours  on  shore,  I  pleaded  for  time  before  I 
answered.  Outside  the  diu  ing-room  there  was  a  large  and 
airy  verandah,  where  the  club  members  gathered  to  smoke 
and  talk.  Here  plans  were  framed  for  our  movements  ;  wo 
were  recommended  to  go  without  delay  to  the  hot  lakes  in 
the  middle  of  the  island,  and  see  the  wonder  of  wonders,  the 
terraces  white  and  pink,  which  are  waterfalls  of  silica  de- 
posited by  the  overflow  from  boiling  springs.  An  expedition 
thither  would  combine  many  advantages  :  we  should  see  on 
the  way  the  finest  parts  of  the  North  Island — great  rivers, 
farms,  and  native  forests ;  we  should  see  Geysers  equalled 
only  in  the  Yellowstone  districts  in  the  United  States  ;  we 
should  be  in  the  midst  of  Maori,  for  the  terraces  were  in  the 
native  reserve,  and  could  only  be  visited  with  their  consent. 
If  we  wished  to  make  the  expedition  utterly  delightful,  we 
could  take  a  tent  and  rods  and  guns  with  us,  and  make  the 
circuit  of  the  lakes  in  a  boat,  landing  at  night  to  sleep  and 
forage  ;  we  should  catch  eels  and  cray-fish  and  white  fish  ; 
there  would  be  ducks  on  the  water  and  pheasants  in  the  bush. 
I  forgot  while  I  listened  that  I  had  almost  seventy  years  upon 
my  back.  The  associations  of  youth  for  a  moment  brought 

back  the  sense  of  strength.     E ,  though  he  was  fifty,  was 

ready  to  go,  hardened  salmon-fisher  and  deer- stalker  as  he 
was.  I,  though  my  better  sense  forbad,  could  not  resolve  to 
say  No  ;  but  Sir  George  Grey  was  coming  from  his  island,  so 
his  nephew  said,  to  see  us,  and  might  be  expected  to  say  de- 
cisively what  we  should  do,  so  we  settled  to  wait  for  his  ad- 
vice. 

Auckland  itself  mi<?ht  be  '  done '  meanwhile.     There  was 


A-uckland.  245 

the  original  Government  House  of  New  Zealand  close  to  the 
Club,  where  the  Governor  lived  before  the  new  constitution 
removed  him  to  Wellington.  There  was  Bishop  Selwyn's  un- 
pretending '  palace  '  and  chapel,  which  the  present  bishop 
kindly  invited  us  to  see.  The  city  was  not  too  large  to  walk 
over.  The  situation  is  picturesque,  and  the  ground  has  been 
skilfully  laid  out.  There  are  now  30,000  inhabitants  there, 
and  they  multiply  like  the  rabbits  in  Australia.  Wooden 
houses  spring  up  like  mushrooms  on  every  vacant  spot — 
decent  always,  and  sometimes  smart.  The  cost  of  them  is 
about  250£.  and  they  are  generally  occupied  by  their  owners. 
Here  as  elsewhere  the  labourers  crowd  into  the  town,  for  the 
high  wages,  the  music-halls  and  the  drink  shops.  The  muni- 
cipality finds  them  unlimited  employment,  by  raising  loans 
cheerfully  in  England  in  hopeful  confidence  of  being  able 
hereafter  to  pay  them.  Public  works  form  the  excuse  for  the 
borrowing  ;  and  there  are  works  enough  and  to  spare  in  prog- 
ress. They  are  laying  out  a  harbour — cutting  down  half  a 
hillside  in  the  process— suited  for  the  ambitious  Auckland 
that  is  to  be,  but  ten  times  larger  than  there  is  present  need 
of.  They  are  excavating  the  biggest  graving  dock  in  the 
world  (the  '  Great  Eastern  '  would  float  in  it  with  ease),  pre- 
paring for  the  fleets  which  are  to  make  Auckland  their  head- 
quarters. All  this  was  very  spirited,  yet  I  did  not  find  it 
wholly  satisfactory.  The  English  race  should  not  come  to 
New  Zealand  to  renew  the  town  life  which  they  leave  behind 
them,  with  a  hand-to-mouth  subsistence  as  earners  of  wages  on 
improved  conditions.  They  will  never  grow  into  a  new  nation 
thus.  They  will  grow  into  a  nation  when  they  are  settled  in 
their  own  houses  and  freeholds,  like  their  forefathers  who 
drew  bow  at  Agincourt  or  trailed  pike  in  the  wars  of  the 
Commonwealth  ;  when  they  own  their  own  acres,  raise  their 
own  crops,  breed  their  own  sheep  and  cattle,  and  live  out 
their  days  with  their  children  and  grandchildren  around  them. 


246  Oceana. 

Fine  men  and  fine  women  are  not  to  be  reared  in  towns, 
among  taverns  and  theatres  and  idle  clatter  of  politics.  They 
are  Nature's  choicest  creations  and  can  be  produced  only  on 
Nature's  own  conditions  :  under  the  free  air  of  heaven,  on  the 
green  earth  amidst  woods  and  waters,  and  in  the  wholesome 
occupation  of  cultivating  the  soil.  The  high  wages  are  the 
town  attraction  now,  but  it  cannot  remain  so  for  ever.  '  Non 
his  juventus  orta  parentibus.'  The  young  men  bred  in  such 
towns  as  Auckland  will  be  good  for  little.  Country  children 
alone  can  be  reared  up  in  simple  tastes  and  simple  habits  ; 
can  be  taught  to  obey  their  parents  and  speak  the  truth,  and 
work  in  the  working  hours,  sing  and  dance  when  work  is  over, 
and  end  and  begin  their  day  with  a  few  words  of  prayer  to 
their  Maker.  All  this  is  out  of  fashion  now.  The  colonies 
are  not  alone  in  their  ways.  In  England,  in  France,  in  Ger- 
many, in  America,  the  town  and  its  pleasures  are  the  universal 
magnet ;  the  newspaper  and  the  debating  club  are  the  mental 
training  schools  ;  and  obedience  and  truth  and  simplicity  do 
not  flourish  in  such  an  atmosphere.  Is  this  centripetal  ten- 
dency to  last  for  ever  ?  or  has  our  kind  schoolmistress  Nature 
provided  for  us  some  rude  awakening  ? 

The  city  authorities  were  proud  of  what  they  were  doing. 
They  took  us  round  in  a  steam-launch,  showed  us  their  vast 
excavations,  showed  us  their  big  dock,  and  left  us  astonished 
at  the  money  they  were  spending.  The  colony  collectively 
and  the  municipalities  separately  seem  contending  which  can 
boiTow  the  most  handsomely.  The  State  debt  is  between 
thirty  and  forty  millions.  The  debts  of  the  municipalities  are 
a  startling  addition  to  it.  The  population,  excluding  the  na- 
tives, is  still  under  half  a  million,  and  prudent  people  are 
beginning  to  ask  how  the  interest  of  all  these  millions  is  to  be 
provided.  To  an  ordinary  observer  it  is  not  clear  how.  The 
workmen  discourage  immigration,  as  likely  to  lower  wages. 
Very  little  is  being  done,  at  least  in  the  Northern  Island,  in 


New  Zealand  Industries.  247 

the  way  of  cultivation  ;  but  they  take  it  generally  with  a  light 
heart,  and  economy  will  wait  till  money  can  no  longer  be  had 
for  asking.  One  of  their  chief  industries  is  at  present  de- 
structive. The  Kauri  pine,  of  which  they  have,  or  had,  enoi*- 
rnous  forests,  produces  the  best  timber  for  all  purposes  which 
grows  anywhere  on  the  globe.  It  is  fine-grained,  tough,  ten- 
acious, does  not  split  or  splinter  in  working,  does  not  warp, 
is  extremely  durable,  and  is  as  soft  to  the  chisel  as  our  own 
deal.  It  has  supplied,  and  still  supplies,  the  amber-h'ko 
Kauri-gum — blocks  of  crystallised  resin,  found  in  the  woods 
where  these  splendid  trees  have  grown.  I  have  seen  orna- 
ments cut  out  of  it  quite  as  beautiful  as  if  they  were  made  of 
amber.  It  is  in  consequence  a  most  valuable  article  of  export. 
The  Kauri  pine  takes  800  years  to  grow.  They  are  cutting  it 
down  and  selling  it  as  fast  as  axe  and  saw  can  work.  We 
saw  the  huge  trunks  lying  in  the  mud  about  the  quays — clean 
stems  eighty  feet  long  and  six  to  seven  feet  in  diameter.  It 
is  counted  that  at  the  present  rate  of  consumption  they  will 
be  all  gone  in  thirty  years.  New  Zealand  perhaps,  like  other 
countries,  must  suffer  something  for  the  honour  of  being  gov- 
erned by  a  Parliament. 

The  streets  of  Auckland  were  not  interesting.  The  fruit- 
shops  pleased  me  best.  There  were  apples  of  many  kinds, 
some  old  English  sorts  which  are  dying  out  at  home  and  have 
revived  in  the  new  land.  Melons,  tomatoes,  potatoes,  were 
all  large  and  abundant.  Photography  was  in  fashion — the 
mechanical  form  of  art,  which  serves  the  purpose  of  a  better 
till  a  better  comes.  There  were  marvellous  landscapes,  lakes, 
mountains,  waterfalls,  or,  coming  to  human  subjects,  Maori 
chiefs  and  Maori  villages.  The  average  shops  were  full  of 
English  wares,  noticeable  for  being  extravagantly  dear.  We 
counted  that  in  Auckland,  as  well  as  in  Sydney  and  Mel- 
bourne, a  florin  there  would  go  no  further  than  a  shilling  at 
home,  for  everything  except  the  necessaries  of  life.  Of  native 


248  Oceana. 

manufactures  wo  saw  none,  save  a  few  Maori  weapons  and 
trinkets. 

The  second  day  we  walked  out  to  Mount  Eden,  from  the 
top  of  which  we  had  a  fine  panoramic  view  over  both  oceans 
and  over  a  large  stretch  of  the  North  Island.  A  few  farms 
were  in  sight,  but  too  thinly  scattered.  The  crater  is  round 
as  a  punch-bowl.  The  slopes  are  green  with  English  grass. 
The  scoria  lies  loose  at  the  bottom  as  the  last  eruption  left  it. 
The  fortifications  are  untouched  ;  the  spadework  so  regular 
and  so  complete  that  it  would  have  done  credit  to  an  engineer 
corps.  The  other  hills  in  sight  seemed  all  to  have  had  de- 
fence works  of  equal  strength.  At  the  foot  of  Mount  Eden 
are  a.  few  pretty  cottage  villas,  one  of  which  belongs  to  a  gen- 
ileman  whom  English  intolerance  banished  from  Cambridge, 
as  it  banished  Martin  Irving  from  Oxford,  with  equal  injury 
to  our  own  universities  and  equal  advantage  to  the  colonies. 
This  gentleman's  card  we  found  at  our  club  when  we  returned, 
and  his  acquaintance  afterwards  we  counted  among  our  best 
acquisitions.  I  remembered  his  story  when  I  was  reminded 
of  it.  A  good  many  years  before  conformity  had  ceased  to 
be  required  as  a  condition  of  advancement,  there  was  a  young 
Mr.  Aldis  who  in  the  mathematical  tripos  was  senior  wrangler 
— so  pre-eminent  that  he  had  distanced  his  nearest  competi- 
tor by  two  thousand  marks.  A  fellowship  would  have  fallen 
to  him  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  a  distinguished  university 
career  would  almost  certainly  have  followed.  But  Mr.  Aldis 
was  a  Dissenter,  and  the  gate  was  closed  in  his  face.  He 
taught  mathematics  for  some  time  at  a  college  at  Newcastle- 
on-Tyne.  There  he  married  a  lady  as  accomplished  and  gifted 
as  himself.  They  came  to  New  Zealand,  where  he  has  lived 
ever  since  as  a  professor  at  the  University  of  Auckland. 

When  I  came  to  know  Professor  Aldis,  and  reflected  on  the 
speculative  opinions  of  so  many  of  the  existing  fellows  and 
tutors  at  Oxford  and  Cambridge,  I  had  to  wonder  at  the 


The  Auckland  Club.  249 

reason  which  had  excluded  him  as  unfit  to  have  a  place 
among  them  ;  for  Mr.  Aldis,  in  these  days  of  intellectual  and 
spiritual  emancipation,  entirely  believes  in  the  Christian  re- 
ligion. 

In  the  evening  Lord  Macdonald  of  the  Isles  appeared  at 
the  club,  whom  we  had  left  at  Melbourne.  He,  I  believe,  was 
on  his  way  to  Japan  or  Fiji.  We  found  also  Mr.  Ashbury,  of 
yachting  celebrity,  who  had  just  purchased  a  large  estate  in 
the  South  Island,  which  he  intended  for  a  sheep  station.  Mr. 
Ashbury  had  been  on  a  visit  to  the  Maori  king,  of  whose  hos- 
pitality and  generosity  he  gave  a  warm  account.  His  skin 
had  suffered  in  the  royal  sleeping  apartments,  but  the  king 
had  given  him  a  handsome  box  of  presents,  and  on  the  whole 
his  reception  had  been  gratifying.  "We  had  heard  of  Mr. 
Ashbury  everywhere,  as  if  he  was  the  wandering  Jew — in  ap- 
pearance an  athlete,  who  might  have  sate  or  stood  for  the 
model  of  some  ancient  sea-king.  Late  at  night  Sir  George 
Grey  came,  the  steamer  from  the  islands  having  been  detained 
on  the  passage.  I  had  last  seen  him  in  England  fourteen 
years  ago,  then,  as  always,  working  for  the  interest  of  the 
colonies,  and  seeking  a  seat  in  Parliament  to  further  it.  In 
this  he  had  not  succeeded.  He  went  back  to  New  Zealand 
and  became — I  believe  it  is  the  sole  instance  of  such  a  thing 
— constitutional  premier  of  a  colony  of  which  he  had  once 
been  governor.  He  had  the  art,  so  rare  in  these  Imperial 
officials,  of  gaming  the  confidence  and  affection  of  the  people 
lie  had  ruled  over. 

Sir  George  Grey's  career  is  a  romance.  He  began  life,  I 
think,  as  an  officer  in  the  Engineers,  where  his  many-sided 
talents  attracted  early  notice.  He  conducted  some  adventu- 
rous exploring  expedition  into  the  interior  of  Australia,  and 
in  this  and  other  employments  he  showed  so  much  courage, 
enterprise,  and  scientific  skill  that  before  he  was  thirty  he  was 
made  governor  of  the  then  new  colony  of  South  Australia. 


250  Oceana. 

He  rose  from  one  situation  to  another,  always  respected,  al- 
ways liked  by  those  under  him  ;  less  liked  perhaps  by  his 
masters  at  the  Colonial  Office,  but  still  continued  in  their 
service.  Twenty-five  years  ago  he  was  governor  at  the  Cape, 
and  is,  I  believe,  the  only  person  that  ever  held  that  trying 
position  who  won  the  hearts  of  all  classes  there — English, 
Dutch,  and  coloured  equally.  '  Send  us  back  Sir  George 
Grey  ! '  was  the  cry  of  the  whole  of  them  when  I  was  there. 
'  Send  us  back  Sir  George  Grey.  He  understands  us.  He 
will  set  us  right.'  Perhaps  he  understood  them  too  well;  at 
any  rate,  he  took  a  view  different  in  many  ways  from  the 
views  of  the  Colonial  Office,  and  the  Colonial  Office  being  in- 
fallible, like  a  Council  or  papal  synod,  it  followed  that  Sir 
George  was  wrong.  He  was  recalled  in  disgrace.  He  com- 
plained ;  his  case  was  reconsidered,  and  he  was  allowed  to 
return  for  the  rest  of  his  term  ;  but  his  power  for  good  was 
gone,  and  all  that  he  could  do  was  to  leave  a  memorial  of 
himself  which  would  deserve  the  lasting  gratitude  of  the 
South  African  people. 

Being  a  man  of  most  varied  acquirements  and  excellent 
judgment,  he  had  formed  in  the  course  of  his  life  a  valuable 
collection  of  rare  books  andMSS.,  old  editions,  &c.  Of  these, 
on  his  departure,  he  made  a  present  to  the  colony,  and  they 
form  the  principal  part  of  the  present  excellent  public  library 
in  Cape  Town.  Sir  George's  statue  stands  in  the  gardens 
under  the  window,  and  if  the  Cape  colonists  were  given  to 
idolatry  they  would  worship  at  that  spot. 

He  was  Governor  at  New  Zealand  during  the  last  and  worst 
Maori  war,  and  more  than  any  other  person  succeeded  in 
bringing  it  to  an  amicable  end.  The  Maori  had  long  inter- 
ested him.  As  early  as  1852  he  had  collected  and  published 
a  volume  of  Maori  songs  and  ballads.  He  spoke  and  wrote 
their  language,  and,  without  a  tinge  of  weak  sentimentalism, 
appreciated  their  many  noble  qualities.  In  the  war  itself  he 


Sir  George  Grey.  251 

showed  energy  and  firmness.  When  it  was  over  he  saved  the 
remnant  of  the  defeated  race  from  extermination,  or  from  the 
serfdom  and  beggary  into  Avhich  they  must  have  fallen  if  their 
lands  had  been  taken  from  them.  They  were  left  with  their 
independence,  and  the  fine  and  still  extensive  territory  which 
they  now  occupy.  The  natives  call  him  their  'white  father.' 
Among  the  colonists  he  stands  by  the  poor  man  against  the 
rich,  by  the  labourer  when  he  has  a  question  with  the  capital- 
ist, and  consequently  he  is  as  much  loved  by  the  great  body 
of  the  people  in  New  Zealand  as  he  was  loved  at  the  Cape. 

Sir  George  had  pre-eminently  the  art  of  persuasion.  The 
stiff-necked  council  at  the  Cape,  I  was  told,  had  no  will  when 
Sir  George  was  present,  and  accepted  whatever  he  proposed 
without  question.  Certainly  it  is  unfortunate,  it  is  a  sign  of 
something  not  as  it  ought  to  be,  that  with  so  unique  a  person 
in  their  employment — a  person  who  could  conciliate  instead 
of  irritating,  and  succeeded  in  all  that  he1  undertook — the 
Colonial  Office  should  have  let  him  drop  ;  nay,  should  have 
conceived  against  him.  something  like  settled  displeasure. 
But  so  it  has  been.  Even  now,  at  this  late  hour  of  the  day, 
Sir  George  could,  perhaps,  set  things  right  in  South  Africa. 
But  the  officials  will  not  give  him  the  chance  of  trying.  His 
popularity  is  their  own  condemnation. 

His  connection  with  the  Government  being  at  an  end,  and 
having  failed  in  his  attempt  for  a  seat  in  the  English  Parlia- 
ment, Sir  George  Grey  finally  settled  in  New  Zealand.  He 
bought  one  of  the  islands  in  the  Hauraki  Gulf,  called  Kawau, 
or  Cormorant  Island,  about  thirty  miles  from  Auckland. 
Kawau,  at  the  beginning  of  the  present  century,  was  a  nest 
of  native  pirates,  who  robbed  and  plundered,  harried  the 
coast,  carried  their  prisoners  into  the  forest  there,  and  dined 
upon  them.  The  coast  tribes  combined  to  make  an  end  of 
these  freebooters,  invaded  Kawau,  defeated  and  destroyed 
them.  The  island,  left  vacant,  and  showing  signs  of  contain- 


252  Oceana. 

ing  minerals,  fell  next  into  the  bands  of  a  company,  who  have 
left  their  monuments  behind  them  in  shafts,  and  broken 
sheds,  and  fallen  chimneys,  and  beams  and  scaffold-poles. 
But  the  company  failed,  and  Kawau  was  again  deserted,  till 
Sir  George  Grey's  eye  was  caught  by  its  capabilities.  Like 
most  men  of  fine  intellect,  he  had  a  taste  for  solitude,  or  at 
least  for  the  possibility  of  solitude  when  he  wished  for  it.  He 
purchased  the  island  from  the  Government,  and  built  a  hand- 
some house  there.  Before  his  door  he  constructed  a  cause- 
way or  quay  running  into  the  sea,  where  coasting  steamers 
can  lie  alongside.  He  planted  every  tree  that  he  knew  of  in 
any  part  of  the  world  which  had  a  chance  of  growing  there. 
He  laid  out  a  garden,  where  among  orange-groves  and  figs 
and  pears,  the  choicest  hothouse  flowers  blossom  carelessly, 
having  been  once  introduced.  Into  the  interior  of  his  little 
kingdom  he  brought  elk,  red  deer,  fallow  deer,  roe,  wild  hog, 
and  wallabi.  He 'has  wild  turkeys  there  and  wild  peacocks — 
anything  and  every  thing.  He  engaged  men  whom  he  knew 
and  could-  depend  on,  to  manage  his  farms  and  woods,  his 
sheep  and  cattle,  his  own  grounds  and  gardens.  He  settled 
them,  with  their  families,  in  substantial  houses  ;  and  in  demo- 
cratic New  Zealand  he  established  a  patriarchal  monarchy,  held 
together  by  the  singular  personal  attachment  which  he  is  able 
to  command.  Having  given  away  his  first  precious  book  col- 
lection, he  gathered  a  second,  perhaps  even  more  curious  than 
the  first.  He  has  specimens  of  the  earliest  printed  volumes, 
English  or  German,  volumes  of  old  engravings,  original  MSS., 
some  oriental,  some  belonging  to  our  own  Commonwealth 
period  of  the  highest  historical  value,  &c.  There  he  lives 
amidst  his  intellectual  treasures,  in  the  midst  of  dependants 
who  look  on  him  more  as  a  father  than  a  master  ;  his  house 
always  open  to  men  of  science,  to  the  superior  colonists,  to 
strangers  who  have  a  better  purpose  than  curiosity  in  seeking 
his  acquaintance.  A  weekly  post  brings  his  letters  and  the 


Sir  George  Grey.  253 

periodic  literature  of  Europe.  When  the  Legislature  is  in 
session,  he  leaves  his  island  for  Wellington  and  his  duties  as 
a  member  of  the  Council.  If  he  has  bitter  enemies  as  well  as 
warm  fiiends,  it  is  a  sign  that  he  is  still  an  effective  power  in 
New  Zealand  politics. 

I  gathered  these  particulars  about  Sir  George  in  the  Auck- 
land club,  my  acquaintance  with  him  in  London  having  been 
merely  superficial.  When  he  arrived  I  found  him  more 
changed  than  I  had  expected.  Fourteen  years  had  aged  him  ; 
his  hair  was  white ;  his  step,  which  had  been  elastic  and 
firm,  was  now  feeble  ;  the  outer  rim  of  the  iris  of  his  violet 
eyes  had  lost  its  colour,  but  the  fire  was  still  burning  at  the 
bottom  of  them.  His  voice  was  clear  as  ever,  his  interest  as 
keen,  his  mind  and  memory  as  quick  and  tenacious  as  in  his 
brightest  days,  and  in  what  he  said  there  was  the  calmness 
of  a  man  no  longer  harassed  by  personal  cares  and  ambitions, 
conscious  of  having  made  a  full  use  of  the  faculties  which 
had  been  allotted  him  in  his  own  time,  and  contented  to  be 
for  the  future  mainly  a  looker-on.  His  temperament  was  not 
excitedly  hopeful,  but  also  not  despondent.  A  simple  but 
genuine  evangelical  piety  controlled  the  issues  of  all  his  spec- 
ulations. He  believes  absolutely  in  Providence  ;  he  has  a 
fixed  conviction  that  the  Lord  of  all  the  earth  will  do  what  is 
right. 

He  pressed  us  to  visit  him.  We  needed  no  pressing.  Of  all 
our  prospects  a  stay  for  a  few  days  at  Kawau  was  the  most 
inviting.  He  agreed,  however,  that  we  must  go  first  to  the 
lakes  and  see  all  that  we  could  of  the  interior  of  the  North 
Island  on  the  way.  He  wrote  letters  for  us  to  various  Maori 
chiefs.  He  even  himself  proposed  to  go  with  us,  or  follow  us, 
that  he  might  introduce  us  to  the  king.  Go  immediately  he 
could  not,  and  our  time  was  limited.  He  promised  to  send 
instructions  after  us  for  our  future  movements  ;  he  sketched 
a  plan  for  us  which  excluded  the  boat  expedition — we  had  to 


254  Oceana. 

choose  between  that  and  Kawau,  and  we  preferred  the  latter 
— but  included  everything  else  of  real  interest.  The  rail- 
way would  take  us  a  hundred  miles  of  the  way  ;  a  carriage 
was  ordered  to  carry  us  over  the  sixty  that  would  remain  be- 
fore we  reached  the  centre  of  the  lake  district  Sir  George 
went  with  us  to  the  station  and  saw  us  off  upon  our  way — 
myself,  my  sou,  and  E . 


CHAPTEK  XV. 

Tour  in  the  interior  of  the  North  Island — Aspect  of  the  country — A  co- 
lonial magnate — Federation,  and  the  conditions  of  it — The  Maori — 
Cambridge  at  the  Antipodes— The  Waikato  Valley— Colonial  admin- 
istration—Oxford— A  forest  drive — The  Lake  Country — Kotorua  — 
Ohinemutu — The  mineral  baths — A  Maori  settlement — The  Lake 
Hotel. 

IT  was  March  6  when  we  started.  Autumn  was  upon  us  now; 
the  morning  was  sultry,  but  rain  had  laid  the  dust  the  day 
before,  and  we  could  keep  the  carriage-windows  down.  We 
had  seen  from  Mount  Eden  that  we  should  pass  through  an 
interesting  district.  For  the  first  few  miles  we  were  among 
country  houses  and  farms,  and  free  plantations  of  the  univer- 
sal Pinus  insignis,  which  grows  in  a  few  years  into  a  huge 
tree,  has  not  roots  enough  to  support  so  large  a  body,  and  is 
torn  up  by  the  winds.  It  is  not  at  all  unusual  after  a  storm 
to  see  long  rows  of  these  pines  lying  prostrate.  In  a  year  or 
two  a  fresh  row  will  be  springing  in  its  place.  Cultivation 
became  scarcer  as  we  advanced.  We  could  see  in  the  cut- 
tings that  the  soil  was  deep  and  rich,  but  it  was  covered 
cither  with  ferns  (the  common  bracken),  which  form  a  nat- 
ural carpet,  the  fronds  folding  one  upon  another  and  shielding 
the  entire  surface  with  an  impenetrable  envelope,  or  else  with 
the  Ti-tree  bush,  which  we  supposed  at  first,  and  when  we 
saw  it  at  a  distance,  to  be  tall  heather.  But  the  resemblance 
is  a  mere  accident.  The  Ti-tree  is  a  shrub  with  a  strong, 
close-grained,  remarkably  tough  and  heavy  stem,  rising  some- 
times, but  rarely,  to  thirty  feet  in  height,  generally  to  about 
seven  or  eight.  The  Maori  use  it  to  fence  their  cabins  and 


256  Oceana. 

villages,  and  of  this  was  formed  the  palisades  round  the  pahs 
of  which  we  used  to  hear  iu  the  war.  The  troops  found  them 
formidable  defences,  and  could  only  cut  through  them  with 
the  axe. 

Of  land  cleared  and  cleaned  for  crops  or  grazing  we  saw 
very  little,  there  being  a  marked  difference  in  this  respect  be- 
tween New  Zealand  and  Australia.  In  the  Northern  Island  of 
New  Zealand  there  is  little  natural  grass  available  for  feeding. 
The  fern  takes  the  place  of  it  When  a  piece  of  ground  is 
taken  up  for  cultivation  the  fern  has  first  to  be  burnt  off,  the 
soil  then  ploughed  or  perhaps  raked  over,  and  sown  with 
grass-seed  from  England  ;  but  it  requires  constant  watching 
and  careful  stocking  or  the  enemy  will  be  over  it  again.  The 
difficulty  is  light  compared  to  the  work  of  clearing  the  forests 
in  Victoria  and  New  South  Wales,  but  it  has  been  enough  to 
daunt  the  New  Zealand  settler.  A  worse  enemy  than  even 
the  fern  is  the  sweet  briar,  imported  long  ago  by  the  mission- 
aries, who  liked  to  surround  themselves  with  pleasant  home 
associations.  At  home  so  chary  of  growth,  the  wild  rose  ex- 
pands here  into  vast  bushes,  becomes  a  weed  and  spreads  like 
a  weed.  It  overruns  whole  fields  in  two  or  three  seasons, 
will  turn  a  cleared  farm  into  an  impenetrable  thicket,  and  has 
to  be  torn  out  with  cart-ropes  and  teams  of  horses.  Early  in 
the  day  we  came  on  the  great  Waikato,  a  river  larger  than 
the  Rhine  at  Strasburg,  swift,  deep,  and  smooth — a  powerful 
volume  of  water,  and  available  for  steamer  traffic  far  into  the 
interior.  Where  the  shores  are  low  the  stream  overflows, 
forming  vast  marshes,  brilliantly  green  with  reed  and  rush 
and  New  Zealand  flax,  and  waiting  for  reclamation,  which 
will  be  easy  when  tried.  The  cost  of  the  works  at  Auckland 
would  dry  hundreds  of  thousands  of  acres.  At  intervals  were 
patches  of  the  primitive  forest,  the  trees  round  the  edges 
being  generally  dead,  and  the  forest  tending  always,  when  ap- 
proached by  cultivation,  to  dwindle  away,  just  as  wild  birds 


Road  to  the  Lakes.  257 

and  wild  animals  dwindle  away.  The  free  organisms  of  the 
desert,  vegetable  as  well  as  animal,  dislike  the  neighbourhood 
of  civilised  man.  We  saw  very  few  homesteads  or  settlers' 
houses.  The  farming,  where  there  was  any,  seemed  to  be 
carried  on  by  companies  who  were  rearing  cattle  on  a  large 
scale,  or  by  servants  or  agents  of  large  proprietors.  The  train 
stopped  for  luncheon  at  a  hotel  in  a  rocky  gorge,  where  the 
Waikato  divides,  and  another  river  falls  into  it.  When  we 
took  our  seats  again,  a  tall  elderly  gentleman,  who,  from  the 
deference  which  was  shown  to  him,  was  evidently  a  person  of 
importance,  crossed  the  carriage  and  sat  down  by  me.  He 
began  to  talk,  and  I  found  he  was  Mr.  F ,  one  of  the  larg- 
est land-owners  in  the  North  Island,  and  chief  representative 
of  the  Capitalist  party.  Besides  owning  land  he  was  a  pros- 
perous merchant,  had  shares  in  gold  mines,  &c. — in  short  was 
a  considerable  man.  He  had  an  estate  of  over  50,000  acres 
in  the  direction  in  which  we  were  going,  and  was  on  his  way 
thither  at  that  moment.  He  was  experimenting  on  Califor- 
nian  methods,  introducing  American  farm  machinery,  &c.,  and 
he  gave  me  a  most  kind  invitation  to  visit  his  establishment, 

of  which  I  was  sorry  to  be  unable  to  avail  myself.    Mr.  F , 

I  gathered,  was  of  a  different  way  of  thinking  from  Sir  George 
Grey.  Sir  George  Grey  was  for  peasant  proprietors  and 

free-holders,  like  the  old  English  yeomen  ;   Mr.  F was 

for  political  economy,  legitimate  influence  of  capital,  and  lai'ge 
estates  owned  by  men  who  had  means  and  knowledge  to  de- 
velop their  resources.  The  old  story  over  again  in  a  new 
country.  I  was  glad  to  hear  both  sides  of  the  question.  He 
had  much  to  say  about  federation — federation  especially  with 
the  mother  country,  for  which  he  seemed  as  decided  an  advo- 
cate as  Mr.  Dalley  himself,  though  of  course  upon  conditions. 
He  told  me  that  he  had  been  thirty  years  in  the  Colony,  that 
he  had  been  once  a  Whig,  as  it  was  easy  to  see  that  he  must 
have  been,  but  was  now  a  Conservative,  because  he  hoped 
17 


258  Oceana. 

from  the  Conservatives  a  sounder  Colonial  policy.  New  Zea- 
landers,  he  said,  were  democrat  in  their  own  country,  but 
were  Imperialists  to  a  man  in  the  insistence  upon  English 
connection.  He  was  most  hearty  in  his  general  language, 
though  when  he  came  to  details  and  to  the  measures  which 

were  to  be  taken,  I  found  the  practical  Mr.  F as  visionary 

as  if  he  had  been  no  wiser  than  myself.  He  wanted  the  Em- 
pire to  be  confederated  on  the  principle  of  a  Zollverein,  with 
differential  duties  in  favour  of  the  Colonies  and  against  the 
foreigner,  especially  on  corn  and  sugar.  Wheat  would  then 
rise  to  fifty  shillings  a  quarter  and  every  body  would  be  bene- 
fited ;  the  Colonies  would  instantly  knit  themselves  to  us  as 
tightly  as  we  pleased ;  the  English  farmer  would  be  set  on 
his  feet  again  ;  labourers  and  mechanics  might  pay  more  for 
their  loaf,  but  where  they  lost  a  shilling  they  would  gain  two 
in  the  higher  wages  which  universal  prosperity  would  ensure 
to  them.  In  short,  this  one  measure  would  make  the  British 

Empire  the  happiest  and  strongest  in  the  world.     Mr.  F 

was  a  man  of  cultivation  and  could  illustrate  his  arguments 
from  other  subjects.  Free  trade,  he  admitted,  might  be  a 
law  of  Nature,  but  Nature  had  many  laws  and,  when  occasion 
required,  superseded  one  by  another.  It  was  a  law  of  Nature 
that  all  substances  should  expand  by  heat  and  contract  by 
cooling.  But  water  when  it  became  ice  did  not  contract,  but 
expanded  and  floated,  and  it  was  owing  to  this  provision  that 
mankind  were  able  to  exist.  If  ice  was  to  sink,  such  a  mass 
of  it  would  accumulate  in  the  Polar  circles  as  to  change  the 
climate  of  the  globe  and  make  it  uninhabitable.  This  was 

prettily  said,  and  Mr.  F evidently  believed  the  force  of 

his  own  arguments.  I  did  not  contradict  him.  I  was  certain 
only  that  his  '  one  measure '  would  never  be  tried,  and  that  if 
Imperial  confederation  could  only  be  brought  about  by  a  Pro- 
tection tariff  we  should  have  to  wait  for  it  till  the  Greek  kal- 
ends. 


The  Missionaries.  259 

He  was  a  clever  man,  however,  and  had  other  things  to  say 
well  worth  attending  to.  He  had  lived  much  among  the 
Maori ;  we  were  passing  through  the  chief  scenes  of  the  last 
great  native  war,  and  he  pointed  out  the  spots  where  anything 
interesting  had  happened.  He  had  known  many  of  the  mis- 
sionaries, too,  in  the  days  of  their  consequence.  They  do  not 
nourish  now,  being  an  organisation  suited  better  to  Crown 
colonies  than  to  local  constitutional  governments,  and  their 
work  among  the  Maori  has  shrunk  far  within  its  old  dimen- 
sions. So  much  passion  gathers  about  these  good  people  and 
their  doings  that  it  is  difficult  to  learn  anything  about  them 
which  it  is  possible  to  Believe.  So  extravagant  is  the  praise 
of  the  few,  so  violent  the  abuse  from  the  many ;  that  I  was 
glad  to  hear  a  rational  account  of  them  from  a  moderate  and 
well-informed  man. 

The  Maori,  like  every  other  aboriginal  people  with  whom 
we  have  come  in  contact,  learn  our  vices  faster  than  our  virt- 
ues. They  have  been  ruined  physically,  they  have  been  de- 
moralised in  character,  by  drink.  They  love  their  poison, 
and  their  grateful  remembrance  of  the  missionaries  has  taken 
the  form  of  attributing  the  precious  acquisition  to  them. 
' Missionaries  good  men,'  they  say  ;  'brought  three  exceUent 
things  with  them — gunpowder,  rum,  and  tobacco.'  One  need 
not  defend  the  missionaries  against  having  brought  either  the 
one  or  the  other ;  but  it  is  true  that,  both  in  New  Zealand 
and  elsewhere,  the  drink  has  followed  them,  as  their  shadow. 
They  have  opened  the  road,  and  the  speculative  traders  have 
come  in  behind  them,  and  they  have  fought  in  vain  against 
the  appetite  when  it  has  been  once  created.  The  Maori  do 
not  distinguish  between  the  use  and  the  abuse,  and  they 

have  humour  in  them,  as  a  story  shows  which  Mr.  F told 

me.  A  missionary  and  a  chief,  whose  name  I  think  was 
Tekoi — it  will  do  at  any  rate — were  intimate  friends.  The 
chief  had  great  virtues :  he  was  brave,  he  was  true,  he  was 


260  Oceana. 

honest — but  he  could  not  resist  rum.  Many  times  the  mis- 
sionary found  him  drunk,  and  at  last  said  to  him,  '  Tekoi, 
good  man,  I  love  you  much.  Don't  drink  fire-water.  If  you 
do,  Tekoi,  you  will  lose  your  property,  you  will  lose  your 
character,  you  will  lose  your  health,  and  in  the  end  your  life. 
Nay,  Tekoi,  worse  than  that,  you  will  lose  your  immortal  soul.' 
Tekoi  listened  with  stony  features.  He  went  away.  Days 
passed,  and  weeks  and  months,  and  the  missionary  saw  no 
more  of  him.  It  seemed,  however,  that  he  was  not  far  off 
and  was  biding  his  time.  About  a  year  after,  one  stormy 
night  the  missionary,  who  had  been  out  upon  his  rounds, 
came  home  drenched  and  shivering.  The  fire  burnt  bright, 
the  room  was  warm  ;  the  missionary  put  on  dry  clothes,  had 
his  supper,  and  felt  comfortable.  He  bethought  himself  that 
if  he  was  to  make  sure  of  escaping  cold  a  glass  of  hot  whiskey- 
punch  before  he  went  to  bed,  would  not  be  inexpedient.  His 
Maori  servant  brought  in  the  kettle.  The  whiskey  bottle  came 
out  of  the  cupboard,  with  the  sugar  and  lemons.  The  fragrant 
mixture  was  compounded  and  just  at  his  lips,  when  the  door 
opened,  a  tattooed  face  looked  in,  a  body  followed,  and  there 
stood  Tekoi.  '  Little  father,'  he  said,  '  do  not  drink  fire-water. 
If  you  drink  fire-water,  little  father,  you  will  lose  your  prop- 
erty, you  will  lose  your  character,  you  will  lose  your  health. 
Perhaps  you  will  lose  your  life.  Nay,  little  father,  will  lose 
But  that  shall  not  be.  Your  immortal  soul  is  more  pre- 
cious than  mine.  The  drink  will  hurt  me  less  than  it  will  hurt 
you.  To  save  your  soul,  I  will  drink  it  myself.' 

Another  story  which  Mr.  F told  me  showed  that  the 

Maori's  questions  were  as  troublesome,  occasionally,  to  the 
missionaries  as  the  inquiring  Zulu  was  to  Bishop  Colenso. 
One  of  them,  being  threatened  if  he  was  wicked  with  being 
sent  to  outer  darkness  where  fire  and  brimstone  burnt  for 
ever,  said,  '  I  don't  believe  that.  How  can  there  be  darkness 
where  a  fire  is  always  burning  ? ' 


Cambridge  in  New  Zealand.  261 

Mr.  F took  leave  of  us  at  a  side  station  ;  in  another  half- 
Lour  we  were  at  the  terminus,  a  hundred  miles  from  Auck- 
land, at  a  place  which  bore  the  ambitious  name  of  Cambridge. 
Oxford  was  twenty  miles  further,  on  the  coach  road  to  the 
lakes,  and  the  names  at  least  of  the  two  great  English  uni- 
versities had  been  revived  at  the  antipodes.  Cambridge  was 
a  large  and  fast-growing  settlement,  a  village  developing  into  a 
town,  on  the  edge  of  the  Maori  location,  to  which  it  had  once 
belonged.  It  was  forfeited  after  the  war.  The  land  all 
round  is  excellent.  The  houses,  hastily  built,  were  all,  or 
most  of  them,  of  wood  ;  but  they  were  large  and  showy.  A 
post-office,  a  town-hall,  a  public  library,  and  a  church  indi- 
cated a  busy  centre  of  life  and  energy. 

There  were  two  hotels,  with  extensive  stables,  with  boards 
indicating  that  post  horses  and  carriages  were  provided  there. 
Coaches,  breaks,  waggonettes  were  standing  about,  and  there 
were  all  the  signs  of  considerable  traffic.  It  meant  that  Cam- 
bridge was  the  point  of  departure  to  the  hot  lakes,  to  and 
from  which  swarms  of  tourists  were  passing  and  repassing. 
The  attraction  was  partly  the  picturesque  and  wonderful  char- 
acter of  the  scenery  ;  but  the  sulphur-springs  had  become 
also  a  sanitary  station.  The  baths  were  credited  with  mirac- 
ulous virtues,  and  were  the  favourite  resort  of  invalids,  not 
only  from  New  Zealand  towns,  but  even  from  Sydney  and 
Melbourne. 

We  had  been  directed  to  the  least  tumultuous  of  the  Cam- 
bridge hotels.  We  found  a  table  d'hote  laid  out  there  for 
forty  people  at  least,  some  going  up  and  some  returning. 
We  fall  in  with  acquaintances  when  we  least  look  for  them. 
A  gentleman  present  told  me  that  he  had  met  me  at  dinner 
in  London  ten  years  before.  The  food  was  tolerable ;  we 
found,  for  one  thing,  New  Zealand  honey  especially  excellent, 
taken  from  the  nests  of  the  wild  bees,  which  are  now  in 
millions  all  over  the  colony.  They  are  the  offspring  of  two 


262  Oceana. 

or  three  hives  which  were  kept,  when  I  was  at  Oxford,  in  the 
rooms  of  Cotton  of  Christchurch,  between  whom  and  his  bees 
there  was  such  strong  attachment  that  a  bodyguard  of  them 
used  to  attend  him  to  lecture  and  chapel.  Cotton  went  to 
New  Zealand  with  Bishop  Selwyn,  and  took  his  bees  with  him, 
aud  they  have  multiplied  in  this  marvellous  manner.  The  roads 
in  new  countries  are  not  macadamised  ;  they  are  mere  tracks 
smoothed  with  a  spade,  and  in  wet  weather  and  in  soft  soil, 
hoof  and  wheel  cut  considerable  holes  in  them.  Travelling 
therefore  has  its  difficulties.  We  had  bespoken  a  light  car- 
riage and  four  horses  ;  the  distance  Avhich  we  had  to  go  was 
but  sixty  miles,  and  the  charge  was  twelve  pounds.  But  the 
price,  of  all  things,  is  what  people  are  willing  to  pay  ;  and 
Australians,  with  long  purses  and  easy  temper,  spoil  the 
market  for  strangers  less  amply  provided.  We  found,  too, 
afterwards  that  the  regular  coach  would  have  taken  us  for  a 
third  of  the  cost.  Knowledge,  like  other  things,  has  to  be 
paid  for.  We  went  early  to  bed :  I  to  be  bitten  by  mos- 
quitoes again  and  spend  a  night  of  misery.  Breakfast  next 
morning  might  have  been  a  compensation  could  we  have  seen 
clearly  what  we  were  eating ;  but  tablecloth,  plates  and  dishes 
were  black  with  house-flies.  The  sugar-basin  swarmed  with 
them,  and  the  milk  was  only  saved  by  a  cover  over  the  jugs. 
They  followed  the  forks  into  our  mouths  ;  they  plunged  into 
our  teacups  and  were  boiled.  I  should  have  said  that  I  never 
anywhere  saw  so  many  of  these  detestable  vermin,  had  we  not 
found  even  more  at  the  place  to  which  we  were  bound. 

Small  miseries  which  do  no  harm  we  execrate  and  forget 
tas  next  minute.  By  nine  o'clock  we  were  off,  the  coach-pro- 
prietor condescending  to  conduct  us  and  explain  the  wonders  of 
the  road.  The  scene  was  utterly  new  ;  something  fresh  and 
unexpected  met  us  at  every  turn.  On  the  whole  it  was  the 
most  interesting  drive  which  I  remember  in  the  course  of  my 
life. 


The  Waikato    Valley.  263 

From  Cambridge  to  Oxford  we  passed  through  an  open 
rolling  country,  with  hardly  an  enclosure,  hardly  a  trace  of 
cultivation  anywhere.  It  was  not  the  fault  of  the  soil,  Avhich 
was  richer  than  ever.  The  dense,  uubi'oken  covering  of  ferns 
was  a  sufficient  prophecy  of  the  crops  which  it  would  one  day 
produce.  So  long  as  we  were  on  the  Colonial  territory,  and 
had  not  entered  the  Reserve,  the  land  was  the  property  of 
capitalists,  either  in  the  colony  or  out  of.  it,  who  had  bought 
on  speculation  for  the  calculated  rise  in  value.  It  was  wait- 
ing for  occupation  till  the  owners  chose  to  sell,  and  the  cen- 
trifugal forces  to  be  looked  for  hereafter  dispersed  the  city 
crowds.  The  road  followed  the  line  of  the  Waikato,  high 
above  the  broad  valley  which  the  river  had  scooped  out  for 
itself ;  and  it  was  evident,  from  the  series  of  flat  terraces 
Avhich  we  saw  on  the  opposite  side,  that  there  had  once  been 
a  series  of  lakes  through  which  the  river  had  run,  and  that 
at  successive  and  apparently  sudden  intervals  the  barriers  had 
been  broken  through  and  the  lake-levels  lowered  forty  or 
fifty  feet  at  a  time,  the  process  being  repeated  at  intervals 
till  the  lakes  were  gone  and  the  rivers  flowed  with  an  unin- 
terrupted stream.  Earthquakes,  common  enough  in  the  North 
Island,  have  been  suggested  as  the  workmen  whom  Nature 
employed  in  her  engineering,  and  the  signs  of  volcanic  action 
are  so  universal  that  this  explanation  easily  presents  itself  ; 
but  the  uniform  and  strictly  horizontal  character  of  the  ter- 
races indicated  to  me  less  violent  methods.  It  is  curious  that 
the  Maori  traditions  speak  of  lakes  having  once  filled  this 
valley.  The  Maori  are  not  supposed  to  have  been  more  than 
500  years  in  New  Zealand,  and  it  would  follow  either  that 
the  opening  of  the  river's  channel  falls  within  this  period,  or 
that  the  Maori  intellect  was  prematurely  scientific  and  drew 
the  same  conclusions  which  we  draw  from  the  same  phe- 
nomena. 

The  road  rose  steadily  till  we  were  1,600  feet  above  the  sea, 


264  Oceana. 

but  the  soil  continued  of  the  same  extraordinary  natural  fer- 
tility. I  could  not  but  think  what  a  country  New  Zealand 
might  become,  whaj;  a  population  it  might  bear,  what  a  splen- 
did race  of  southern  English  might  be  reared  in  this  still 
desert  treasure-house  of  agricultural  wealth  if  it  were  wisely 
ruled.  Two  Houses  of  Legislature,  160  members  in  all,  each 
receiving  200  guineas  a  year  of  wages,  each  with  an  eye  to 
his  own  interests,  and  returned  by  constituencies  equally  keen 
for  their  own,  the  power  virtually  in  the  hands  of  labourers 
and  workmen  jealous  of  immigration  lest  it  should  lower  the 
rate  of  wages,  influences  at  work  everywhere  which  we  need 
not  call  corrupt  because  the  most  respectable  of  us  in  the 
same  situation  would  probably  act  in  precisely  the  same  way, 
is  not  the  happiest  conceivable  form  of  government  for  a 
people  not  yet  numbering  half  a  million,  and  possessed  of  a 
country  as  extensive  as  the  United  Kingdom,  with  even  larger 
natural  resources. 

The  result,  so  far  as  a  stranger  can  see,  is  the  soil  left 
waste  and  waiting  for  the  ploughman's  hand,  an  enormous 
debt  still  fast  accumulating,  and  rich  and  poor — gentlemen, 
peasants,  mechanics — gathering  like  flocks  of  gulls  above  the 
carrion  in  the  big  towns.  A  wise  governor,  a  wise  president, 
if  he  had  full  authority  and  was  not  troubled  with  the  neces- 
sity of  conciliating  parliamentary  interests,  would  surely  man- 
age things  better..  In  the  early  stages  of  society  monarchy 
is  the  best  kind  of  rule,  provided  you  can  get  the  right  man 
for  monarch.  The  hereditary  principle  gives  you  a  Reho- 
boam  to  succeed  Solomon.  The  elective  principle  gives  you 
occasionally  a  sensible  man,  but  just  as  often  a  popular  ora- 
tor. Where  a  country  has  to  settle  its  administration  for  it- 
self, it  must  do  the  best  that  it  can.  But  a  British  colony 
might  be  in  so  exceptionally  favoured  a  condition  that  it 
could  have  a  monarch  neither  a  fool  by  inheritance  nor  a  false 
idol  by  popular  mistake.  The  Home  Government  has  at  their 


Colonial  Government.  265 

disposition  a  body  of  tried  and  faithful  public  servants.  It 
might  select  the  best  of  them,  appoint  him  for  seven  or  ten 
years,  and  leave  him  uninterfered  with  for  his  term  of  office. 
At  the  end  of  it  he  might  be  called  to  account  and  rewarded 
or  discredited  according  to  results.  Such  a  governor  would 
work  miracles  in  such  a  countiy  as  New  Zealand.  Alas  that 

lie  should  be  as  chimerical  as  Mr.  F 's  Zollverein !     We 

know  as  a  fact  that  Homo  ministers  can  appoint  no  one  to 
high  posts  with  a  sole  consideration  of  their  fitness.  Colo- 
nial governorships  are  patronage,  and  must  be  distributed  to 
'  blood  the  noses  of  the  hounds.'  To  such  governors  the  col- 
onies cannot  be  expected  to  trust  themselves,  and  in  default 
of  this,  if  I  were  a  New  Zealander,  I  should  desire  an  elective 
president  like  the  President  of  the  United  States,  uncontrolled, 
except  in  taxation,  by  a  popular  chamber.  He  would  put  an 
end,  for  one  thing,  to  the  borrowing  process,  and  the  land 
would  be  within  the  reach  of  poor  men  who  have  no  capital 
except  their  labour.  It  was  disgusting  to  see,  on  one  side  a 
beautiful  country  opening  its  arms  to  occupation,  holding  out 
in  its  lap  every  blessing  which  country  life  can  offer  ;  and  on 
the  other,  cities  like  Auckland,  crammed  like  an  overcrowded 
beehive,  the  bees  neglecting  the  natural  flowers  and  feeding 
on  borrowed  sugar. 

Cambridge  had  not  exactly  reminded  us  of  its  academic 
namesake  :  Oxford  had  even  less  resemblance.  Instead  of 
domes  and  towers,  and  colleges  and  cloistered  avenues,  the 
Oxford  of  the  antipodes  consisted  of  a  solitary  wayside  inn. 
on  the  ridge  of  a  high  range  of  hills,  the  desert  round  it, 
not  a  stick  or  a  bush  visible  save  Ti-tree  far  and  wide.  At 
the  back  was  a  garden  luxuriant  enough  with  melons  and 
gourds  and  peas  and  cabbages.  Besides  these  I  saw  here 
for  the  first  time  the  Maori  potato,  shaped  like  ours,  but 
purple  inside  and  out.  In  default  of  slate,  stone,  or  wood, 
the  paths  and  walks  were  edged  on  either  side  with  empty 


266  Oceana. 

bottles,  relics  of  the  beer  aud  giu  which  had  been  consumed 
on  the  premises.  The  owner,  a  large,  good-humoured,  ener- 
getic-looking man,  was  busy  sinking  a  well  in  his  back  yard. 
As  the  ground  in  front  of  the  house  sloped  directly  down  five 
hundred  feet  to  the  river,  and  the  hill  was  made  of  porous 
gravel  and  sand,  I  told  him  that  he  would  probably  have  to 
sink  his  well  to  the  river  level  before  he  would  find  water, 
and  that  in  fact  an  American  forcing-engine  worked  by  the 
river  itself  would  be  more  economical  and  at  least  as  effectual. 
He  agreed  on  the  whole,  but  prefen-ed  to  persist  in  his  own 
method. 

We  stopped  at  Oxford,  only  to  change  horses.  A  few  miles 
further  on  we  crossed  into  the  land  of  the  Maori  and  plunged 
into  twenty  miles  of  unbroken  forest,  a  forest  which  was  a 
forest  indeed  ;  trees  all  new  to  me,  from  160  to  200  feet 
high,  many  of  them  reminding  me  in  form  and  character  of 
the  Australian  gum-tree,  with  which  I  believe  they  have  no 
affinity  whatsoever,  as  if  air  and  climate  tended  to  reproduce 
the  same  colours  and  outlines  in  organisms  entirely  distinct 
The  Kauri  is  the  grandest  of  the  New  Zealand  forest  princes. 
He  stands  alone,  allows  "no  undergrowth  beneath  his  shade, 
and  clears  an  open  space  about  him.  Next  the  Kauri  comes 
the  Totara,  sometimes  soaring  up  with  a  smooth  stem  like 
the  giant  Eucalyptus,  sometimes  coiled  round  with  a  serpent- 
like  parasite,  the  Rata,  which  in  time  strangles  the  life  out  of 
him  and  takes  the  place  of  what  it  has  murdered.  After 
these  come  cypress,  black  pine,  Puketu — all  tall  forest  tree  i 
— and  below,  in  infinite  variety,  great  shrubs,  if  you  may  call 
them  so,  with  large  glossy  leaves,  like  magnolia  or  laurel, 
aromatic  bushes,  flowering  bushes  with  scented  blossoms, 
and  winding  about  the  branches  of  them  all, — miscellaneous 
creepers  strange  to  me,  which  climbed  till  they  could  climb 
no  longer,  and  decorated  the  tree-tops  with  colours  not  their 
own.  Except  under  the  Kauri,  there  is  usually  a  dense 


Drive  Through  a  Forest,  267 

thicket.  The  tree-fern  has  here  its  chosen  home,  and  the 
Australian  appears  like  a  dwarf  to  it.  The  fern-palm  (not 
properly  a  fern  at  all)  is  equally  beautiful,  and  might  be  mis- 
taken for  the  tree-fern  at  a  distance,  save  that  the  leaves 
spring  siugly  from  the  stem  in  an  ascending  spiral,  instead  of 
bursting  together  out  of  the  crest.  Of  other  ferns,  small 
and  large,  there  is  no  end.  Even  tourists  can  make  no  im- 
pression on  them.  The  impulse  of  destruction  in  the  tourist 
nature  is  vigorous  as  at  home,  .but  nature  is  too  prolific  and 
the  supply  is  infinite.  The  New  Zealand  ferns  are  famous 
all  over  the  world.  I  saw  somewhere  a  collection  of  them, 
pressed,  interleaved,  and  bound  magnificently  in  Russian 
leather  and  gold.  It  had  been  ordered  for  a  European 
monarch.  I  turned  it  over.  It  was  not  a  good  collection  : 
small  scraps  had  been  pinched  from  off  fronds  which  might 
be  twenty  feet  long ;  with  no  drawing,  sketch,  or  even  de- 
scription of  the  plant  as  it  grew,  only  some  idly  ornamental 
bits  of  grass,  or  moss,  or  wild  flowers  gummed  about  it  as  a 
setting,  meaningless  and  foolish.  I  could  not  but  protest 
slightly.  '  Good  enough  for  a  king,'  was  the  answer  which  I 
seemed  to  get,  but  my  hearing  is  not  entirely  to  be  depended 
on. 

A  track  had  to  be  cut  with  the  axe  for  the  road  on  which 
we  were  travelling,  permission  being  purchased  from  the 
Maoris  to  whom  the  wood  belongs.  Thirty  feet  or  so  had 
been  cleared  on  either  side  of  the  carriage-way,  to  let  in  air 
and  light,  and  the  vast  trunks  lay  stretched  as  they  had  fallen, 
one  upon  another,  thousands  and  tens  of  thousands  of  tons  of 
the  finest  timber  left  to  rot.  Nay,  not  even  to  rot,  for  they 
had  set  them  on  fire  where  they  could,  and  the  flames  spread- 
ing to  the  forest  had  seized  the  trees  which  were  nearest,  and 
there  they  were  standing  scorched,  blackened,  and  leafless. 
We  went  through  absolutely  twenty  miles  of  this.  Such 
wanton  and  lavish  destruction  I  must  have  seen  to  have  be- 


268  Oceana. 

lieved.  The  Maoris  are  too  indolent  to  use  the  timber  and 
too  careless  to  sell  it.  The  white  colonist  can  get  as  much  as 
he  wants  elsewhere.  It  was  really  painful  to  look  at,  and  it 
was  a  relief  when  we  emerged  into  open  land  and  sunshine. 
There  are  unnumbered  pheasants  in  these  woods.  I  asked 

E ,  who  is  a  famous  battue  shot,  what  he  could  make  of 

rocketers  over  the  tops  of  the  Totaras.  The  gun  is  not  made 
which  would  bring  down  a  bird  from  such  a  height. 

Once  more  in  the  clear  country,  we  saw  in  the  distance  a 
blue,  singular  range  of  mountains,  while  immediately  under- 
neath us,  a  thousand  feet  down,  stretched  a  long,  greenish 
lake  with  an  island  in  the  middle  of  it,  and  a  cluster  of  white 
houses  six  miles  off  standing  on  the  shore.  The  lake  was 
Rotorua  ;  the  white  houses  were  Ohinemutu,  the  end  of  our 
immediate  journey.  As  we  drew  nearer  to  our  destination 
both  Ohinemutu  and  the  district  touching  it  seemed  to  be  on 
fire.  Columns  of  what  appeared  to  be  smoke  were  rising  out 
of  the  Ti-tree  bush,  from  the  lake  shore,  and  from  the  ditches 
by  the  roadside.  We  should  have  found  the  lake  itself  luke- 
warm if  we  could  have  dipped  our  hands  in  the  water.  At 
length  we  reached  the  foot  of  a  steep  bit  of  road,  ascended  it, 
and  found  ourselves  at  the  door  of  our  hotel,  lodging-house, 
boarding-house — whatever  we  please  to  call  it.  There  were 
two  in  the  place,  as  at  Cambridge,  which  of  course  were  rivals. 
Stables,  stores,  and  shops  were  sprinkled  about  miscellane- 
ously, and  all  round  lay  a  primitive  Maori  village,  consisting 
of  perhaps  a  hundred  or  a  hundred  and  fifty  families,  descend- 
ants of  the  warrior  tribes  who  within  living  memory  had 
fought  fierce  and  bloody  battles  on  these  waters,  and  had 
cooked  their  prisoners  at  these  natural  fireplaces.  The  smoke 
which  we  had  seen  was  steam  rising  from  boiling  springs — 
alkaline,  siliceous,  sulphuretted,  and  violently  acid — not  con- 
fined, too,  exactly  to  the  same  spot,  but  bursting  out  where 
they  please  through  the  crust  of  the  soil.  You  walk  one  day 


Ohinemutu.  269 

over  firm  ground,  where  the  next  you  find  a  bubbling  hole, 
into  which  if  you  unwarily  step,  your  foot  will  be  of  no  further 
service  to  you.  These  springs  extend  for  many  miles  ;  they 
are  in  the  island  on  the  lake  ;  they  must  be  under  the  lake 
itself  to  account  for  its  temperature.  Across  the  water  among 
the  trees  a  few  miles  off,  a  tall  column  of  steam  ascends,  as  if 
from  an  engine.  It  arises  from  a  gorge  where  a  sulphurous 
and  foul-smelling  liquid,  black  as  Cocytus  or  Acheron,  bubbles 
and  boils  and  spouts  its  filthy  mud  eternally.  I  have  no  taste 
for  horrors,  and  did  not  visit  this  foul  place,  which  they  call 
Tikiteri.  A  Scotchman,  they  say,  went  to  look  at  it,  gazed 
breathless  for  a  moment  or  two,  and  when  he  found  his  voice 
exclaimed,  '  By  God,  I  will  never  swear  again.'  Indeed,  the 
condition  of  things  all  about  suggests  the  alarming  nearness 
of  the  burning  regions.  The  native  settlement  was  at  one 
time  very  large,  and  must  have  been  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant in  New  Zealand.  It  owed  its  origin  doubtless  to  these 
springs,  not  from  any  superstitious  reason,  but  for  the  practi- 
cal uses  to  which  the  Maori  apply  them.  They  cook  their 
crayfish  and  white-fish  which  they  catch  in  the  lake  in  them  ; 
they  boil  their  cabbage,  they  wash  their  clothes  in  them,  and 
they  wash  themselves.  They  own  the  district  as  a  village 
community.  The  Government  rents  it  of  them.  They  live 
on  their  income,  like  ladies  and  gentlemen,  and  having  no 
work  to  do,  or  not  caring  to  do  any,  they  prefer  to  enjoy 
themselves.  They  dig  out  baths,  bring  streams  from  cold 
springs  to  temper  the  hot,  and  pass  half  their  time  lounging 
in  the  tepid  water.  I  heard  a  grunt  as  I  passed  one  of  these 
pools.  I  supposed  it  was  a  pig.  Looking  round  I  beheld  a 
copper-coloured  face  and  shoulders,  a  white  head,  and  a  pipe 
sticking  out  of  the  mouth.  They  find  existence  very  tolerable 
on  these  terms.  Old  men,  women,  and  children  paddle  about 
all  day ;  young  men  swim  in  the  warm  corners  of  the  lake. 
Now  and  then  some  small  boy  or  girl  falls  into  a  boiling  hole, 


270  Oceana. 

and  the  parents  are  relieved  of  further  trouble  with  them. 
Eventually  Ohinemutu  and  the  neighbourhood  are  to  become 
the  Baden  or  Bath  of  New  Zealand.  A  large  park  has  been 
laid  out  rudimen tally  ;  the  sulphur  springs  a  mile  off,  which 
are  credited  with  special  medical  virtues,  have  been  enclosed 
and  extensive  buildings  raised  about  them.  One  bath  is  called 
Madame  Rachel,  as  making  those  who  dip  in  it  beautiful  for 
ever  ;  another  is  called  the  Priest's  Bath,  from  some  natural 
miracle  wrought  on  a  poor  Catholic  father,  whom  it  cured  at 
once  of  rheumatism  and  of  sin.  The  Maori  meanwhile,  re- 
lieved of  all  care  for  their  subsistence,  loaf  about  in  idleness, 
living  on  their  cray-fish  and  their  pigs,  and  their  share  of  the 
rent — a  sad,  shameful,  and  miserable  spectacle  ;  the  noblest 
of  all  the  savage  races  with  whom  we  have  ever  been  brought 
in  contact ;  who,  in  spite  of  our  rifles  and  cannon,  fought 
long  and  stubborn  wars  with  us,  and  more  than  once  saw  the 
backs  of  English  troops  retiring  from  an  open  battlefield  ; 
overcome  by  a  worse  enemy  than  sword  and  bullet,  and  cor- 
rupted into  sloth  and  ruin.  I  saw  many  half-caste  children 
running  about.  I  asked  if  the  men  felt  no  anger  about  it.  I 
was  told  rather  that  it  was  considered  as  an  honour.  The 
women  were  chaste  after  marriage  ;  before  marriage  they  did 
not  know  what  chastity  meant.  Degradation  could  hardly  be 
carried  further. 

Tourists  were  lounging  about  by  dozens  at  the  hotel-doors 
as  we  drove  up ;  some  come  for  amusement  and  curiosity, 
some  to  reside  for  the  water  cure.  Parties  were  arriving 
hourly  from  Cambridge  by  the  route  which  we  had  taken, 
from  Tauranga  on  the  sea,  or  overland  from  Wellington.  The 
carriages  which  brought  the  new  arrivals  returned  with  a 
back  load  of  those  who  had  exhausted  the  wonders.  Our 
hotel  was  '  the  Lake  ; '  we  were  received  in  the  hall  by  an 
active,  good-looking,  over-dressed  landlady,  with  the  manners 
rather  of  a  hostess  receiving  guests  than  of  the  mistress  of  a 


Ohinemutu.  27  L 

boarding-house.  She  provided  us  with  a  pretty  sitting-room 
with  bed-rooms  attached,  opening  on  a  balcony  and  overlook- 
ing the  wide  surface  of  Kotorua.  Some  bishop  had  been  ex- 
pected, for  whom  these  apartments  had  been  reserved  ;  but 
the  bishop  had  not  arrived,  and  his  quarters  were  made  over 
to  us.  As  we  had  come  in  dusty  from  our  drive,  we  were 
despatched  at  once  to  the  baths  at  the  foot  of  the  garden — 
long  deep  troughs  of  mineral  water  at  a  temperature  of  98°, 
in  which  we  were  directed  to  lie  down  for  ten  minutes.  The 
sensation  was  delicious,  and  I  could  easily  believe  in  the  virt- 
ues of  these  mysterious  fountains.  "We  rose  out  of  them  clean 
and  fresh  at  least,  if  not  beautiful,  and  as  there  was  still  an 
hour  on  our  hands  before  the  table  d'hote  dinner,  our  good 
landlady  sent  us  round  the  native  village,  where  we  saw  the 
Maori  squatting  about  on  the  warm  stones.  It  was  now  suii- 
set ;  they  had  been  there  since  suniise,  rising  only  to  wallow 
in  the  sulphur  pools  and  then  to  squat  again — helpless,  use- 
less, absurd.  In  the  centre  of  the  village  stood  a  Maori 
temple,  one  of  the  most  famous  in  the  island,  the  doors  out- 
side and  the  panels  of  the  walls  within  ornamented  with  hid- 
eous carved  monsters,  the  tongues  hanging  out  of  the  huge 
gaping  mouths,  and  slips  of  mother-of-pearl  glittering  in  the 
eye-sockets.  Doubtless  those  opalescent  eyes  had  looked  on 
singular  scenes  in  the  still  recent  days  of  fighting  and  canni- 
balism. The  old  '  joss  house '  now  answered  the  complex 
purpose  of  school-room,  land  court,  and  religious  meeting- 
house. '  Service '  was  held  there  on  Sundays  for  those  who 
retained  a  remnant  of  the  creed  which  they  had  learnt  from 
the  missionaries.  At  the  upper  end  was  a  communion  table, 
and  behind  it  a  veiled  statuette  of  the  Queen,  which  was  un- 
covered on  serious  occasions.  The  poor  Maori  had  meant  well 
and  could  perhaps  have  done  no  better  for  themselves ;  but 
as  Ohinemutu  has  grown  in  importance,  the  religious  part  of 
the  business  has  seemed  a  scandal.  Fashionable  visitors  re- 


272  Oceana. 

quired  a  decent  place  of  worship,  and  a  small  church  has  been 
built,  which  was  then  waiting  for  a  bishop  to  consecrate  it. 

Meals  at  the  hotel  were  at  fixed  hours,  the  company  air 
dining  together.  There  were  at  least  forty  of  us,  our  hostess 
sitting  at  the  head  of  the  table.  As  the  weather  was  sultry 
and  we  knew  no  one,  we  withdrew  speedily  to  our  own  bal- 
cony and  cigars,  looking  out  on  the  moonlit  expanse  of  waters. 
Mosquitoes  swarmed,  but  they  were  happily  not  of  the  biting 
sort.  The  beds  were  clean,  and  no  flying  or  crawling  insect 
disturbed  our  slumbers.  When  we  opened  our  windows  in 
the  morning,  the  landscape  was  half -hidden  by  the  steam  from 
the  springs,  which,  for  some  reason,  are  generally  hottest  at 
night.  The  Maori,  male  and  female,  were  lazily  coming  out 
of  their  huts,  black-haired,  large-headed,  and  large-boned,  in 
their  red  and  yellow  blankets.  Pipes  were  in  the  mouths  of 
the  men,  who  stood  about  and  loafed.  The  women  drew  round 
the  boiling  holes,  with'  their  pots  and  kettles.  Children 
straggled  along  the  sands,  or  paddled  in  the  shallow  water  of 
the  lake.  The  island  which  I  have  already  mentioned  stood 
four  miles  outside  our  window.  It  is  called  Mokoia,  is  cele- 
brated in  legend,  and  has  besides  a  remarkable  history.  The 
legend  is  a  Hero  and  Leander  story,  where  the  lady,  however, 
and  not  Leander,  was  the  swimmer.  Hiuemoia,  a  chief's 
daughter  on  the  mainland,  was  adored  by  a  youth  whose 
home  was  on  the  island.  She  returned  his  passion  ;  and  when 
her  father,  not  finding  the  connection  grand  enough,  forbade 
her  to  think  of  him,  she  went  to  the  nearest  promontory, 
swam  the  three  miles  which  divided  her  from  her  lover,  and 
hid  herself  in  his  own  warm  sulphur  pond,  where  he  found 
her  smiling  and  waiting  for  him  when  he  came  down  in  the 
morning.  The  pool  is  called  after  the  lady,  Hinemoia's  bath, 
and  the  adventure  is  the  subject  of  many  a  Maori  ballad  and 
love-song.  The  history  connected  with  Mokoia  is  more  tragic. 
In  the  early  days  of  the  missionaries,  some  sixty  years  ago, 


Mokoia  and  its  History.  273 

there  was  a  famous  warrior  in  these  parts  named  Hangi.  He 
was  a  man  of  some  intellect,  and  wishing  to  know  something 
more  about  the  white  men  who  were  coming  into  New  Zealand, 
he  went  under  the  missionaries'  auspices  to  England,  was  in- 
troduced, I  believe,  to  Exeter  Hall — at  any  rate  was  made 
much  of,  and  was  presented  with  a  good  sum  of  money  to  be 
used  in  civilising  and  Christianising  his  countrymen.  This 
money  he  laid  out  secretly  in  guns  and  powder,  stored  them 
on  board  ship,  and  brought  them  home  with  him.  He  had  an 
old  feud  with  the  Mokoia  Islanders.  He  demanded  their  sub- 
mission, with  these  new  arms  to  back  him.  The  Mokoians, 
secure  as  they  supposed  in  their  water-guarded  home,  laughed 
at  him  and  defied  him.  He  dragged  his  canoes  thirty  miles 
over  land,  launched  them  on  the  lake,  stormed  the  island,  and 
killed  everybody  that  he  found  alive  in  it,  men,  women,  and 
children.  Such  is  the  tale,  'and  the  bricks  (i.e.,  the  dead 
men's  bones)  are  alive  to  this  day  to  testify  of  it,  therefore  it 
is  not  to  be  denied.'  We  determined  to  pay  Mokoia  a  visit 
at  our  earliest  leisure. 

Breakfast  was  like  dinner,  save  that  the  flies  which  then 
were  sleeping  were  now  awake,  and  we  could  realise  the  suf- 
ferings of  Pharaoh.  At  Cambridge  they  had  come  in  battal- 
ions ;  at  Rotorua  they  were  in  armies,  seizing,  like  unclean 
harpies,  on  the  very  food  which  we  were  eating,  blackening 
the  table-cloth  as  if  a  shower  of  soot  had  fallen  upon  it.  The 
residents  seemed  used  to  the  infliction,  and  bore  it  undis- 
turbed. The  novelty  and  strangeness  of  the  scene  had  put 
us  in  good  spirits,  so  we  bore  it  too,  though  with  imperfect 
equanimity.  After  breakfast  the  lady  hostess  volunteered  to 
guide  us  over  the  Government  springs  and  baths  at  Sulphur 
Point,  as  the  new  station  is  called.  We  were  a  little  startled 
when  she  appeared  in  a  red  silk  dress,  with  an  ostrich  plume 
in  her  hat ;  but  she  knew  the  country  well,  and  was  gracious 
and  communicative. 
18 


274  Oceana. 

A  week's  walk  through  Ti-tree  bush  brought  us  to  the 
Point.  The  bathing  establishment  was  like  other  bathing 
establishments — rows  of  unbeautiful  wooden  buildings,  lodg- 
ing-houses, reading-rooms,  bath-rooms.  The  water  of  the 
springs  had  been  taken  possession  of  and  distributed  by  pipes, 
part  into  deep  open  swimming  pools  enclosed  by  palisades, 
part  taken  under  roof  into  large  square  cisterns  with  dressing- 
closets  round  the  edges,  and  steps  from  them  into  the  water. 
'  Madame  Rachel '  was  one  of  tbese — clear  as  crystal,  but  al- 
kaline to  nastiness,  and  so  charged  with  silica  that  if  you 
stayed  in  long  enough  you  would  be  enamelled.  A  small 
twig  of  Ti-tree  which  had  baen  left  in  for  a  week  or  two  was 
like  a  branch  of  white  coral  The  priest's  disorders  must 
have  been  desperate  if  they  were  worse  than  the  remedy. 
The  bath  which  they  told  us  that  he  had  used  tasted  like  a 
strong  solution  of  sulphuric  acid,  and  smelt  most  potently  of 
sulphuretted  hydrogen.  There  is  no  reasonable  doubt,  how- 
ever, that  the  healing  virtue,  whatever  it  be,  that  lies  in  hot 
mineral  springs  exists  in  a  supreme  degree  in  these  waters  at 
Ohinemutu.  Here  will  be  the  chief  sanitary  station  of  the 
future  for  the  South  Sea  English.  The  fame  of  it  will  spread, 
and  as  transit  grows  more  easy,  invalids  will  find  their  way 
there  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  This  desert  promontory, 
with  its  sad  green  lake  and  Maori  huts  and  distant  smoke- 
columns,  will  hereafter  be  an  enormous  cockney  watering- 
place  ;  and  here  it  will  be  that  in  some  sanitarian  salon  Ma- 
caulay's  New  Zealander,  returning  from  his  travels,  will 
exhibit  his  sketch  of  the  ruins  of  St.  Paul's  to  groups  of  ad- 
miring young  ladies.  I  have  come  to  believe  in  that  New 
Zealander  since  I  have  seen  the  country. 

The  extremity  of  the  Point  was  a  few  hundred  yards  off; 
and  will  be  more,  for  the  land  is  unfinished,  and  is  still  grow- 
ing. There  are  some  twenty  springs  in  the  intervening  dis- 
tance, most  of  them  delivering  siliceous  acid,  which  forms  as 


Sulphur  Point.  275 

it  is  deposited  into  white  rock,  and  spreads  like  a  coral  bank. 
Others,  perhaps  within  a  foot  of  them,  discharge  pure  sul- 
phur, which  lies  in  masses,  and  will  burn  if  you  put  a  match 
to  it.  In  the  bush  is  a  large  open  pool,  which  gives  off  nit- 
rous oxide  or  laughing  gas.  Our  guide  told  us  that  some 
young  English  aristocrat  had  almost  lost  his  life  there  ;  he 
had  gone  in  to  try  what  it  was  like,  he  had  fallen  down  in 
delightful  delirium,  and  was  dragged  out  unconscious. 

It  rained  as  we  returned  to  the  hotel  The  first  sight  on 
re-entering  the  village  was  a  Maori  swimming  about  pipe  in 
mouth,  with  an  umbrella  over  him  to  keep  off  the  wet.  Many 
othor  curiosities  remained  to  be  noticed.  At  every  turn 
there  was  something  peculiar.  Standing  in  the  lake  at  an 
angle  of  the  village  were  the  carved  posts  and  buttresses  of 
what  had  once  been  the  grandest  pah  in  all  the  island.  There 
had  been  an  earthquake.  The  water  of  the  lake  had  risen  or 
the  land  had  sunk.  The  pah  had  been  overwhelmed,  and 
these  remains  were  all  that  was  left  of  it.  We  were  shown 
one  hole  where  a  Maori  straying  at  night,  with  the  fire-water 
in  him,  had  gone  down — down  direct  into  the  hot  quarters 
below.  Another  where  a  few  years  since  the  chief  of  Ohine- 
mutu  boiled  and  ate  an  ambassador  from  a  neighbouring 
chief.  The  ambassador's  master  disapproving  of  this  pro- 
ceeding came  in  force  a  few  days  after,  boiled  the  other  in 
the  same  pool,  and  dined  on  him  in  return.  They  do  not  eat 
one  another  any  more.  They  eat  pigs  instead,  which  thrive 
wonderfully,  and  are  as  plentiful  as  they  used  to  be  in  Cou- 
nemara.  I  was  .  exercised  in  thinking  what  these  island 
Maories  could  have  lived  upon  before  Captain  Cook  intro- 
duced the  pigs.  On  the  coast  they  had  lived  on  fish,  but  in 
these  lakes  there  were  no  fish  to  speak  of — only  crayfish, 
muscles,  a  few  eels,  and  a  small  whitebait  the  size  of  a  min- 
now. They  had  no  animals,  no  cows,  no  sheep,  no  milk  or 
cheese,  no  grain  of  any  kind.  They  had  ducks,  which  they 


276  Oceana. 

may  have  shot  or  caught ;  but  not  in  any  number.  They 
had  unlimited  fern-root,  berries  of  various  kinds,  and  the 
purple  potato.  But  these  could  never  have  fed  the  large 
limbs  and  high  courage  of  the  old  Maori,  and  '  long  pig ' 
could  only  have  been  an  occasional  delicac}7.  Some  light  was 
thrown  on  the  matter  afterwards.  I  found  that  the  pi£ce  de 
resistance  was  the  flesh  of  sharks,  which  swarm  on  the  coasts 
in  thousands,  and  are  easily  caught.  They  were  dried,  salted, 
and  sent  up  the  country. 

We  were  imperfectly  successful  in  making  acquaintances 
at  the  table  d'hote.  The  English  race,  colonists  or  home-bred, 
are  alike  shy  of  each  other  when  they  meet  as  strangers. 
Reserve  is  a  growth  of  liberty.  We  do  not  speak  to  the 
neighbour  with  whom  chance  has  brought  us  into  passing 
contact,  because  he  is  as  good  as  we  are  and  may  perhaps 
resent  it,  or  because  if  we  begin  a  conversation  with  him  and 
happen  not  to  like  him  afterwards,  it  may  not  be  easy  for  us 
to  shake  him  off.  The  further  political  liberty  extends,  the 
sharper  becomes  social  exclusiveness.  You  may  make  my 
hairdresser's  vote  as  good  as  mine,  but  you  cannot  make  me 
ask  Mm  to  dinner,  or  speak  to  any  casual  companion,  who 
may  be  a  hairdresser  for  anything  that  I  can  tell,  and  may 
claim  me  afterwards  as  a  friend.  There  were  two  or  three 
Australian  tourists  who  did  not  seem  afraid  of  my  advances. 
With  them  I  had  some  conversation  about  their  own  coun- 
try. They  were  English-born  and  English  in  character,  and 
spoke  very  sensibly  about  many  things.  They  confirmed — 
especiaUy  one  of  them — a  suspicion  which  I  had  myself  con- 
tracted, that  young  Australians,  growing  in  the  full  sunshine 
of  modern  ideas,  were  less  absolutely  benefited  by  those 
ideas  than  true  believers  in  them  could  desire.  They  have 
learnt  from  their  political  leaders  to  call  no  man  superior 
upon  earth,  and  therefore  to  reverence  no  man,  reverence  be- 
ing an  unfit  attitude  for  the  rising  generation.  They  have 


Young  Australia.  277 

learnt  from  popular  histories  that  we  live  under  a  dispensa- 
tion of  progress,  that  each  age  is  necessarily  wiser  and  better 
than  the  age  which  preceded  it,  and  therefore  that  no  man, 
or  set  of  men,  had  yet  existed  who  could  be  compared  mor- 
ally or  intellectually  with  themselves.  '  They  that  have  troub- 
led all  the  world '  have  come,  it  appears,  to  Australia  also. 
But  there  are  plenty  elsewhere  too.  If  it  is  all  right,  and  the 
rising  generation  is  so  unboundedly  superior,  it  does  well  to 
believe  thus  highly  of  itself.  The  faith  may  be  fruitful  in 
good  works.  There  is  nothing  to  go  upon  like  the  facts  of 
things.  If  the  superiority  be  not  fact  but  only  self-conceit 
and  imagination,  then  perhaps  it  is  not  so  welL 


278  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  XVL 

Road  to  the  Terraces —The  Blue  Lake — Wairoa — An  evening  walk —The 
rival  guides — Native  entertainments— Tarawara  Lake — A  Maori  girl 
— The  White  Terrace — Geysers — Volcanic  mud-heaps — A  hot  lake — 
A  canoe  ferry — Kate  and  Marileha — The  Pink  Terrace — A  bath— A 
boiling  pool — Beauty  of  colour — Return  to  Wairoa  and  Ohinemutu. 

OHINEMUTU  was  so  novel  a  scene  that  I  could  have  stayed 
there  indefinitely,  and  have  found  something  every  day  new 
and  entertaining  to  look  at.  In  fact,  we  meant  to  stay  till 
we  could  hear  from  Sir  George  Grey  about  our  introduction 
to  the  copper-coloured  King  ;  but  our  immediate  business 
was  to  visit  the  famous  Terraces,  the  eighth  wonder  of 
the  world.  The  natural  man  resents  and  rejects  extravagant 
descriptions.  He  conceives  it  more  likely  that  describers 
should  exaggerate  than  that  nature  should  produce  anything 
entirely  anomalous.  What  all  the  fools  in  the  country 
professed  to  admire  could  not,  I  thought,  be  really  admirable, 
and  I  had  made  up  my  mind  to  be  disappointed.  However, 
we  were  bound  to  go.  The  requisite  arrangements  were 
made  by  our  hostess,  and  were  rather  complicated.  The 
Terraces  themselves  were  twenty-four  miles  off.  We  were  to 
drive  first  through  the  mountains  to  a  native  village  which 
had  once  been  a  famous  missionary  station,  called  Wairoa. 
There  we  were  to  sleep  at  an  establishment  affiliated  to  the 
Lake  Hotel,  and  the  next  day  a  native  boat  would  take  us 
across  Tarawara  Lake,  a  piece  of  water  as  large  as  Botorua, 
at  the  extremity  of  which  the  miracle  of  nature  was  to  be 
found.  We  had  brought  a  letter  of  introduction  from  Sir 
George  Grey  to  the  chief  of  Wairoa — a  very  great  chief,  we 


Drive  to   Wairoa.  279 

learnt  afterwards,  who  declines  allegiance  to  the  King.  It 
was  to  his  tribe  that  the  Terraces  belonged,  and  to  them  we 
were  to  be  indebted  for  boat  and  crew  and  permission  to  see 
the  place.  The  sum  exacted  varied  with  the  number  of  the 
party.  There  were  three  of  us,  and  we  should  have  four 
pounds  to  pay.  The  tariff  is  fixed,  to  limit  extortion  ;  the 
money  goes  to  the  villagers,  who  make  a  night  of  it  and  get 
drunk  after  each  expedition.  A  native  guide,  a  lady,  would 
attend  us  and  show  off  the  wonders.  There  was  a  choice  of 
two,  whose  portraits  we  had  studied  in  the  Auckland  photo- 
graph shops.  Both  were  middle-aged.  Sophia  was  small  and 
pretty,  she  had  bright  black  eyes,  with  a  soft  expression,  and 
spoke  excellent  English.  Kate  was  famous  for  having  once 
dived  after  and  saved  a  tourist  who  had  fallen  into  the  water, 
and  had  received  the  Humane  Society's  medal.  We  delayed 
our  selection  till  we  had  seen  these  famous  rivals. 

The  road  after  leaving  Ohinemutu  crosses  a  wide  plain,  un- 
interesting save  for  the  smoke  of  distant  Geysers,  one  of  which 
occasionally  spouts  up  a  column  of  water  thirty  feet  into  the 
air,  but  was  now  quiescent.  Leaving  the  level  ground  at  last, 
we  ascended  slowly  a  long  steep  hill  on  the  top  of  which  we  en- 
tered a  dense  forest.  It  was  the  same  in  kind  as  that  which 
we  had  passed  through  on  our  way  up  from  Cambridge. 
There  were  the  same  great  Kauris,  the  same  Totaras,  the 
same  ferns,  only  if  possible  more  luxuiiant.  But  there  was 
no  felled  timber  disfiguring  the  roadsides,  or  traces  of  de- 
stroying fire  ;  there  was  merely  a  track  through  a  dense  wood, 
broad  enough  for  carnages  to  cross  each  other.  Natural 
openings  gave  us  here  and  there  a  gleam  of  the  sky,  a  sight 
of  overhanging  crags,  or  of  some  tall  tree,  standing  alone  with 
crimson-blossomed  parasites  clustering  among  the  branches. 
On  any  bank  which  the  sun  could  touch  there  were  large  and 
sweet  wild  strawberries.  We  met  a  Maori  on  horseback  ;  he 
gave  himself  the  airs  of  a  lord  of  the  soil,  and  intimated  that 


280  Oceana. 

the  tribe  meant  to  have  a  tollgate  there  and  levy  more  tribute 
— a  view  of  things  which  our  driver  objected  to  in  emphatic 
language.  We  were  perhaps  three  quarters  of  an  hour  in  the 
forest.  At  night  it  is  said  to  be  more  beautiful  than  in  the 
day,  the  fireflies  being  so  many  and  so  brilliant  that  the  glades 
seem  as  if  lighted  up  for  a  festival  of  the  fairies.  It  is  alto- 
gether a  preternatural  kind  of  place  ;  on  emerging  from  be- 
neath the  trees  we  found  ourself  on  the  edge  of  a  circular 
lake  or  basin  of  beautifully  transparent  sapphire-coloured 
water,  a  mile  in  diameter,  with  no  stream  running  into  it  or 
out  of  it ;  and  closed  completely  round  with  woods,  cliffs,  and 
rocky  slopes.  No  boat  or  canoe  floats  upon  its  mysterious 
surface.  It  is  said  to  contain  no  li ving  thing  save  a  dragon, 
who  has  been  seen  on  sunny  days  to  crawl  upon  a  bank  to 
warm  himself.  I  was  reminded  instantly  of  the  mountain  lake 
in  the  '  Arabian  Nights '  where  the  fisherman  drew  his  net  at 
the  bidding  of  the  genius.  Here,  if  anywhere  in  the  world 
was  the  identical  spot  where  the  five  fish  were  taken  out — red, 
blue,  yellow,  purple,  and  green — who  terrified  the  king's  cook 
by  talking  in  the  frying  pan.  The  dragon  might  really  be 
there,  for  anything  that  I  could  tell  ;  anything  might  be  there, 
so  weird,  so  enchanted  was  the  whole  scene. 

Following  the  beach  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  and  listening 
to  the  voices  of  the  waves  which  rippled  on  the  shingle,  we 
turned  round  a  shoulder  of  rock,  and  saw  a  hundred  feet  be- 
low us,  and  divided  from  the  blue  lake  only  by  a  ridge  over 
which  a  strong  hand  might  throw  a  stone,  a  second  lake  of  a 
dingy  green  colour — not  enchanted,  this  one,  but  merely  un- 
canny-looking. I  suppose  below  both  there  are  mineral  springs 
which  account  for  the  tint.  Out  of  the  green  lake  a  river  did 
run — a  strong,  rapid  stream,  falling  in  cataracts  down  a  broken 
ravine,  and  overhung  by  dense  clumps  of  trees  with  large 
glossy  leaves.  The  road  followed  the  water  into  a  valley, 
which  opened  out  at  the  lower  end.  There  stood  Wairoa  and 


Evening   Walk.  281 

its  inhabitants.  It  was  late  afternoon.  The  people  were  all 
out  loafing  and  lying  about.  As  we  drove  up  the  children 
swarmed  about  the  carriage,  black-haired,  black-eyed,  half- 
naked,  clamorous  for  'pennies.'  We  might  have  been  in  a 
Christian  country — in  Spain  or  Italy.  We  alighted,  we  left 
our  things  at  the  lodging-house,  and  tried  to  escape  the 
crowd,  by  walking  off  to  see  the  sights  alone.  This  was  not 
permitted.  If  we  came  to  Wairoa  we  must  abide  by  the 
rules.  Below  the  village  the  river  fell  through  a  precipitous 
black  gorge.  We  were  to  see  this,  and  pay  for  seeing  it,  and 
engage  the  services  of  an  urchin  guide,  for  eighteen  pence. 
Of  course  we  submitted.  The  fall  itself  was  worth  a  visit, 
being  finer  perhaps  than  the  finest  in  Wales  or  Cumberland. 
We  had  to  crawl  down  a  steep  slippery  path  through  over- 
hanging bushes,  to  look  at  it  from  the  bottom.  The  water 
fell  about  two  hundred  feet,  at  two  leaps,  broken  in  the  mid- 
dle by  a  black  mass  of  rock.  Trees  started  out  from  the  prec- 
ipices and  hung  over  the  torrent.  Gigantic  and  exquisitely 
graceful  ferns  stretched  forward  their  waving  fronds  and 
dipped  them  in  the  spray.  One  fern  especially  I  noticed, 
which  I  had  never  seen  or  heard  of,  which  crawls  like  ivy  over 
the  stones,  winds  round  them  in  careless  wreathes,  and  fringes 
them  with  tassels  of  green. 

We  did  not  grudge  our  eighteen  pence,  which,  we  under- 
stood, went  into  a  general  fund  to  be  spent  in  the  revels  of 
the  village.  On  returning  to  the  upper  regions,  we  were  al- 
lowed to  dismiss  our  urchin  and  pursue  our  walk  by  ourselves. 
There  were  still  two  hours  of  daylight.  We  followed  a  path 
which  ran  along  the  shoulder  of  a  mountain.  On  our  left 
were  high  beetling  crags,  on  our  right  a  precipice  eight  hun- 
dred feet  deep,  with  green  open  meadows  below.  The  river, 
having  escaped  out  of  the  gorge,  was  winding  peacefully 
through  them  between  wooded  banks,  a  boat-house  at  the  end, 
and  beyond  the  wide  waters  of  Tarawara,  enclosed  by  a  grand 


282  Oceana. 

range  of  hills,  which  soared  up  blue  and  beautiful  into  the 
evening  air.  I  had  rarely  looked  on  a  softer  or  sweeter  scene. 
Fools  might  admire  Wairoa,  yet  I  was  obliged  to  own  that  it 
might  be  admirable  notwithstanding.  A.  five-oared  boat  was 
coming  up  the  creek.  It  reached  the  landing-place,  and  a 
party  of  tourists  disembarked  who  were  returning  from  the 
Terraces.  They  looked  like  ants,  so  far  down  they  were.  We 
watched  them  straggling  up  the  steep  path  which  led  to  the 
village.  One  of  them  had  forgotten  something,  and  went  back 
for  it.  They  were  pretty  figures  in  the  general  picture. 

We  strolled  home.  On  the  way  I  found  what  I  took  to  be 
a  daisy,  and  wondered  as  I  had  wondered  at  the  pimpernel  at 
Melbourne.  It  was  not  a  daisy,  however,  but  one  of  those 
freaks  of  nature  in  which  the  form  of  one  thing  is  imitated, 
one  knows  not  why,  by  another. 

The  next  day's  arrangements  had  now  to  be  completed. 
We  dined  first,  and  were  then  called  on  to  choose  our  guide, 
a  crowd  outside  the  inn  door,  waiting  to  learn  which  it  was 
to  be — Kate  or  Sophia.  Neither  of  them  had  as  yet  presented 
herself.  But  Sophia  had  been  with  the  party  whom  we  had 
seen  in  the  boat.  It  seemed  to  be  Kate's  turn.  Kate  would 
save  our  lives  if  they  needed  saving,  and  besides  we  learnt 
that  she  was  stone-deaf.  She  would  show  us  all  that  was  to 
be  seen,  and  we  should  escape  conversation,  so  we  determined 
on  Kate.  A  loud  howl  rose  from  the  mob,  it  seemed  as  of 
satisfaction.  '  Kate  !  Kate  ! '  a  hundred  voices  cried,  and 
presently  there  appeared  a  big,  half-caste,  bony  woman  of 
forty,  with  a  form  like  an  Amazon's,  features  like  a  prize- 
fighter's, and  an  arm  that  would  fell  an  ox.  She  had  a  blue 
petticoat  on,  a  brown  jacket,  and  a  red  handkerchief  about  her 
hair.  Deaf  she  might  be,  but  her  war-whoop  might  be  heard 
for  a  mile.  I  enquired  if  this  virago  (for  such  she  appeared) 
had  a  husband.  I  was  told  that  she  had  had  eight  husbands, 
and  on  my  asking  what  had  become  of  them,  I  got  for  answer 


The  Natives  of  Wairoa.  283 

that  they  had  died  away  somehow.  Poor  Kate  !  I  don't 
know  that  she  had  ever  had  so  much  as  one.  There  were 
lying  tongues  at  Wairoa  as  well  as  in  other  places.  She  was 
a  little  elated,  I  believe,  when  we  first  saw  her.  She  was 
quiet  and  womanly  enough  next  day.  Her  strength  she  had 
done  good  service  with,  and  she  herself  was  probably  better, 
and  not  worse,  than  many  of  her  neighbours.  But  I  was  a 
little  alarmed,  and  regretted  that  I  had  been  so  precipitate, 
especially  after  I  saw  Sophia.  Sir  George's  old  chief  called 
on  us  in  the  evening,  and  Sophia  was  invited  in  as  interpreter. 
The  chief  was  in  plain  European  clothes,  but  had  an  air  of 
dignity.  He  had  given  orders,  he  said,  that  we  should  bo 
well  attended  to.  He  was  sorry  that  he  could  not  himself  go 
with  us  to  the  Terraces,  but  we  should  want  nothing.  Sophia 
was  as  pretty  as  her  picture  represented  her — slight,  graceful, 
delicate,  with  a  quiet,  interesting  manner.  We  were  com- 
mitted, however,  and  could  not  change,  and  our  Kate,  after 
all,  did  very  well  for  us. 

It  was  getting  late  when  the  chief  went.  We  were  about 
to  go  to  bed,  when  a  further  message  was  brought  in  to  us. 
The  tribe  were  anxious  to  show  us  some  of  their  native  dances 
by  torchlight.  We  asked  for  particulars.  We  learnt  that  wo 
might  have  a  brief  ordinary  dance  on  moderate  terms.  If  we 
wished  for  a  performance  complete — complete  with  its  inde- 
cencies, which  they  said  gentlemen  usually  preferred — they 
would  expect  31.  10s.  Tourists,  it  seems,  do  encourage  these 
things,  and  the  miserable  people  are  paid  to  disgrace  them- 
selves, that  they  may  have  a  drunken  orgie  afterwards,  for 
that' is  the  way  in  which  the  money  is  invariably  spent.  The 
tourists,  I  presume,  wish  to  teach  the  poor  savage  '  the  bless- 
ings of  civilisation.'  We  declined  any  performance  mutilated 
or  entire. 

In  the  morning  we  had  to  start  early,  for  we  had  a  long 
day's  work  cut  out  for  us.  We  were  on  foot  at  seven.  The 


284  Oceana. 

weather  was  fine,  with  a  faint  cool  breeze,  a  few  clouds,  but 
no  sign  of  rain.  Five  Maori  boatmen  were  in  attendance,  to 
carry  coats  and  luncheon  basket.  Kate  presented  herself  with 
a  subdued  demeanour,  as  agreeable  as  it  was  unexpected. 
She  looked  picturesque,  with  a  grey,  tight-fitting,  woollen 
bodice,  a  scarlet  skirt,  a  light  scarf  about  her  neck,  and  a  grey 
billicock  hat  with  pink  riband.  She  had  a  headache,  she  said, 
but  was  mild  and  gentle.  I  disbelieved  entirely  in  the  story 
of  the  eight  husbands. 

We  descended  to  the  Lake  Head  by  the  path  up  which  we 
had  seen  the  party  returning  the  previous  evening.  The  boat 
was  a  long,  light  gig,  unfit  for  storms,  but  Tarawora  lay  un- 
ruffled in  the  sunshine,  tree  and  mountain  peacefully  mirrored 
on  the  surface. 

The  colour  was  again  green,  as  of  a  shallow  sea.  Heavy 
bushes  fringed  the  shore.  High,  wooded  mountains  rose  on 
all  sides  of  us  as  we  left  the  ci-eek  and  came  out  upon  the 
open  water.  The  men  rowed  Avell,  laughing  and  talking 
among  themselves,  and  carried  us  in  little  more  than  an  hour 
to  a  point  eight  miles  distant.  Little  life  of  any  kind  showed 
on  the  way  ;  no  boat  was  visible  but  our  own  ;  there  were  a 
few  cormorants,  a  few  ducks,  a  coot  or  two,  three  or  four  sea- 
gulls, come  from  the  ocean  to  catch  sprats,  and  that  was  all. 
Kate  said  that  the  lake  held  enormous  eels  as  big  round  as  a 
man's  leg,  which  were  caught  occasionally  with  night  lines  ; 
but  we  saw  nothing  of  them  and  did  not  entirely  believe.  At 
the  point,  or  behind  it,  we  came  on  a  Maori  farm  on  the 
water's  edge.  There  were  boats,  and  nets  hung  up  to  dry,  a 
maize-field,  an  orchard,  and  a  cabin.  We  stopped,  and  they 
offered  us  crayfish,  which  we  declined,  but  bought  a  basket 
of  apples  for  the  crew.  We  were  now  in  an  arm  of  the  lake 
which  reached  three  miles  further.  At  the  head  of  this  we 
landed  by  the  mouth  of  a  small  rapid  river,  and  looked  about 
us.  It  was  a  pretty  spot,  overhung  by  precipitous  cliffs,  witb« 


Lady  Guides  to  the  Terraces.  285 

ivy-fern  climbing  over  them.  A  hot  spring  was  bubbling 
violently  through  a  hole  in  a  rock.  The  ground  was  littered 
with  the  shells  of  unnumbered  crayfish  which  had  been  boiled 
in  this  caldron  of  Nature's  providing.  Here  we  were  joined 
by  a  native  girl,  Marileha  by  name,  a  bright-looking  lass  of 
eighteen,  with  merry  eyes,  and  a  thick  but  well-combed  mass 
of  raven  hair  (shot  with  orange  in  the  sunlight)  which  she 
tossed  about  over  her  shoulders.  On  her  back,  thrown 

jauntily  on,  she  had  a  shawl  of  feathers  which  E wanted 

to  buy,  but  found  the  young  lady  coy.  She  was  a  friend  of 
Kale's,  it  appeared,  was  qualifying  for  a  guide,  and  was  to  bo 
our  companion,  we  were  told,  through  the  day.  I  heard  the 
news  with  some  anxiety,  for  there  was  said  to  be  a  delicious 
basin  of  lukewarm  water  on  one  of  the  terraces,  in  wbich 
custom  required  us  to  bathe.  Our  two  lady-guides  would 
provide  towels,  and  officiate,  in  fact,  as  bathing  women.  The 
fair  Polycasta  had  bathed  Telemachus,  and  the  queenly  Helen 
with  her  own  royal  hands  had  bathed  Ulysses  when  he  came 
disguised  to  Troy.  So  Kate  was  to  bathe  us,  and  Miss  Mari- 
leha was  to  assist  in  the  process. 

We  took  off  our  boots  and  stockings,  put  on  canvas  shoes 
which  a  wetting  would  not  spoil,  and  followed  our  two 
guides  through  the  bush,  waiting  for  what  fate  had  in  store 
for  us  ;  Miss  Mari  laughing,  shouting,  and  singing,  to  amuse 
Kate,  whose  head  still  ached.  After  a  winding  walk  of  half 
a  mile,  we  came  again  on  the  river,  which  was  rushing  deep 
and  swift  through  reeds  and  Ti-tree.  A  rickety  canoe  was 
waiting  there,  in  which  we  crossed,  climbed  up  a  bank,  and 
stretched  before  us  we  saw  the  White  Terrace  in  all  its 
strangeness  ;  a  crystal  staircase,  glittering  and  stainless  as  if 
it  were  ice,  spreading  out  like  an  open  fan  from  a  point  above 
us  on  the  hillside,  and  projecting  at  the  bottom  into  a  lake, 
where  it  was  perhaps  two  hundred  yards  wide.  The  summit 
was  concealed  behind  the  volumes  of  steam  rising  out  of  the 


286  Oceana. 

boiling  fountain,  from  which  the  siliceous  stream  proceeded. 
The  stairs  were  about  twenty  in  number,  the  height  of  each 
being  six  or  seven  feet.  The  floors  dividing  them  were 
horizontal,  as  if  laid  out  with  a  spirit-level.  They  were  of 
uneven  breadth :  twenty,  thirty,  fifty  feet,  or  even  more  ; 
each  step  down  being  always  perpendicular,  and  all  forming 
arcs  of  a  circle  of  which  the  crater  was  the  centre.  On  reach- 
ing the  lake  the  silica  flowed  away  into  the  water,  where  it 
lay  in  a  sheet  half-submerged,  like  ice  at  the  beginning  of 
a  thaw.  There  was  nothing  in  the  fall  of  the  ground  to 
account  for  the  regularity  of  shape.  A  crater  has  been 
opened  through  the  rock  a  hundred  and  twenty  feet  above 
the  lake.  The  water,  which  comes  up  boih'ng  from  below,  is 
charged  as  heavily  as  it  will  bear  with  silicic  acid.  The  silica 
crystallises  as  it  is  exposed  to  the  air.  The  water  continues 
to  flow  over  the  hardened  surface,  continually  adding  a  fresh 
coating  to  the  deposits  already  laid  down  ;  and,  for  reasons 
which  men  of  science  can  no  doubt  supply,  the  crystals  take 
the  form  which  I  have  described.  The  process  is  a  rapid 
one  ;  a  piece  of  newspaper  left  behind  by  a  recent  visitor,  was 
already  stiff  as  the  starched  collar  of  a  shirt.  Tourists  am- 
bitious of  immortality  had  pencilled  their  names  and  the  date 
of  their  visit  on  the  white  surface  over  which  the  stream  was 
running.  Some  of  these  inscriptions  were  six  and  seven 
years  old,  yet  the  strokes  were  as  fresh  as  on  the  day  they 
were  made,  being  protected  by  the  film  of  glass  which  was 
instantly  drawn  over  them. 

The  thickness  of  the  crust  is,  I  believe,  unascertained,  the 
Maories  objecting  to  scientific  examination  of  their  treasure. 
It  struck  me,  however,  that  this  singular  cascade  must  have 
been  of  recent,  indeed  measurably  recent,  origin.  In  the 
middle  of  the  terrace  were  the  remains  of  a  Ti-tree  bush, 
which  was  standing  where  a  small  patch  of  soil  was  still  un- 
covered. Part  of  this,  where  the  silica  had  not  reached  the 


The    White  Terrace.  287 

roots,  was  in  leaf  and  alive.  The  rest  had  been  similarly 
alive  within  a  year  or  two,  for  it  had  not  yet  rotted,  but  had 
died  as  the  crust  rose  round  it.  Clearly  nothing  could  grow 
through  the  crust,  and  the  bush  was  a  living  evidence  of  the 
rate  at  which  it  was  forming.  It  appeared  to  me  that  this 
particular  staircase  was  not  perhaps  a  hundred  years  old, 
but  that  terraces  like  it  had  successively  been  formed  all 
along  the  hillside  as  the  crater  opened  now  at  one  spot  and 
now  at  another.  Wherever  the  rock  showed  elsewhere 
through  the  soil  it  was  of  the  same  material  as  that  which  I 
saw  growing.  If  the  supply  of  silicic  acid  was  stopped  the 
surface  would  dry  and  crack.  Ti-trees  would  then  spring  up 
over  it.  The  crystal  steps  would  crumble  into  less  regular 
outlines,  and  in  a  century  or  two  the  fairy-like  wonder  which 
we  were  gazing  at  would  be  indistinguishable  from  the  ad- 
joining slopes.  We  walked,  or  rather  waded,  upwards  to  the 
boiling  pool ;  it  was  not  in  this  that  we  were  to  be  bathed. 
It  was  about  sixty  feet  across,  and  was  of  unknown  depth. 
The  heat  was  too  intense  to  allow  us  to  approach  the  edge, 
and  we  could  see  little,  from  the  dense  clouds  of  steam  which 
lay  upon  it.  We  were  more  fortunate  afterwards  at  the  crater 
of  the  second  terrace. 

The  crystallisation  is  icelike,  and  the  phenomenon,  except 
for  the  alternate  horizontal  and  vertical  arrangement  of  the 
deposited  silica,  is  like  what  would  be  seen  in  any  Northern 
region  when  a  severe  frost  suddenly  seizes  hold  of  a  waterfall 
before  snow  has  fallen  and  buried  it. 

A  fixed  number  of  minutes  is  allotted  for  each  of  the  'sights.' 

Kate  was  peremptory  with  E and  myself.  Miss  Marileha 

had  charge  of  my  son.  '  Come  along,  boy  ! '  I  heard  her  say 
to  him.  We  were  dragged  off  the  white  terrace  in  spite  of 
ourselves,  but  soon  forgot  it  in  the  many  and  various  wonders 
which  were  waiting  for  us.  Columns  of  steam  were  rising  all 
round  us.  We  had  already  heard,  near  at  hand,  a  noise  like 


288  Oceana. 

the  blast-pipe  of  some  enormous  steam-engine.  Climbing  up 
a  rocky  path  through  the  bush,  we  came  on  a  black  gaping 
chasm,  the  craggy  sides  of  which  we  could  just  distinguish 
through  the  vapour.  Water  was  boiling  furiously  at  the  bot- 
tom, and  it  was  as  if  a  legion  of  imprisoned  devils  were  roar- 
ing to  be  let  out.  '  Devil's  hole '  they  called  the  place,  and 
the  name  suited  well  with  it.  Behind  a  rock  a  few  yards  dis- 
tant we  found  a  large  open  pool,  boiling  also  so  violently  that 
great  volumes  of  water  heaved  and  rolled  and  spouted,  as  if  in 
a  gigantic  saucepan  standing  over  a  furnace.  It  was  full  of 
sulphur.  Heat,  noise,  and  smell  were  alike  intolerable.  To 
look  at  the  thing,  and  then  escape  from  it,  was  all  that  we 
could  do,  and  we  were  glad  to  be  led  away  out  of  sight  and 
hearing.  Again  a  climb,  and  we  were  on  an  open  level  pla- 
teau, two  acres  or  so  in  extent,  smoking  rocks  all  round  it, 
and,  scattered  over  its  surface,  a  number  of  pale  brown  mud- 
heaps,  exactly  like  African  anthills.  Each  of  these  was  the 
cone  of  some  sulphurous  Geyser.  Some  were  quiet,  some 
were  active.  Suspicious  bubbles  of  steam  spurted  out  under 
our  feet  as  we  trod,  and  we  were  warned  to  be  careful  where 
we  went.  Here  we  found  a  photographer,  who  had  bought 
permission  from  the  Maories,  at  work  with  his  instruments, 
and  Marileha  was  made  to  stand  for  her  likeness  on  the  top  of 
one  of  the  mud  piles.  We  did  not  envy  him  his  occupation, 
for  the  whole  place  smelt  of  brimstone  and  of  the  near  neigh- 
bourhood of  the  Nether  Pit.  Our  own  attention  was  directed 
especially  to  a  hole  filled  with  mud  of  a  peculiar  kind,  much 
relished  by  the  natives,  and  eaten  by  them  as  porridge.  To 
us,  who  had  been  curious  about  their  food,  this  dirty  mess 
was  interesting.  It  did  not,  however,  solve  the  problem. 
Mud  could  hardly  be  as  nutritious  as  they  professed  to  find 
it,  though  it  may  have  had  medicinal  virtues  to  assist  the  di- 
gestion of  crayfish. 

The  lake  into  which  the  Terrace  descended  lay  close  below 


A  Maori  Saloon.  289 

us.  It  was  green  and  hot  (the  temperature  near  100°), 
patched  over  with  beds  of  rank  reed  and  rush,  which  were 
forced  into  unnatural  luxuriance.  After  leaving  the  mud- 
heaps  we  went  down  to  the  waterside,  where  we  found  our 
luncheon  laid  out  in  an  open-air  saloon,  with  a  smooth  floor 
of  silica,  and  natural  slabs  of  silica  ranged  round  the  sides  as 
benches.  Steam-fountains  were  playing  in  half-a-dozen  places. 
The  floor  was  hot — a  mere  skin  between  us  and  Cocytus. 
The  slabs  were  hot,  just  to  the  point  of  being  agreeable  to  sit 
upon.  This  spot  was  a  favourite  winter  resort  of  the  Maori — 
their  palavering  hall,  where  they  had  their  constitutional  de- 
bates, their  store-room,  their  kitchen,  and  their  dining-room. 
Here  they  had  their  innocent  meals  on  dried  fish  and  fruit, 
here  also  their  less  innocent,  on  dried  slices  of  their  enemies. 
At  present  it  seemed  to  be  made  over  to  visitors  like  our- 
selves. The  ground  was  littered  with  broken  bottles, 
emptied  tins,  and  scraps  of  sandwich  papers.  We  contributed 
our  share  to  the  general  mess.  Kate  was  out  of  spirits,  with 
her  headache  ;  we  did  what  we  could  to  cheer  her,  and  par- 
tially succeeded.  The  scene  was  one  to  be  remembered,  and 
we  wished  to  preserve  some  likeness  of  it.  The  Maori  pro- 
hibit sketching,  unless,  as  with  the  photographer,  permission 
has  been  exorbitantly  paid  for.  Choosing  to  be  ignorant  of 
the  rule,  E sate  himself  down  and  took  out  his  drawing- 
book.  Two  or  three  natives  who  had  joined  us  howled  and 
gesticulated,  but  as  they  could  speak  no  English  and  Kate 

did  not  interfere,  E affected   ignorance  of  what  they 

meant,  and  calmly  finished  his  pencil  outline. 

We  were  now  to  be  ferried  across  the  lake.  The  canoe  had 
been  brought  up — a  scooped-out  tree-trunk,  as  long  as  a  racing 
eight-oar,  and  about  as  narrow.  It  was  leaky,  and  so  low  in 
the  water  that  the  lightest  ripple  washed  over  the  gunwale. 
The  bottom,  however,  was  littered  with  fresh-gathered  fern, 
which  for  the  present  was  dry,  and  we  were  dii-ected  to  lie 
19 


290  Oceana. 

clown  upon  it.  Marileha  stood  in  the  bow,  wielding  her  pad- 
dle, with  her  elf  locks  rolling  wildly  down  her  back.  The 
hot  waves  lapped  in  and  splashed  us.  The  lake  was  weird 
and  evil-looking.  Here  Kate  had  earned  her  medaL  Some 
gentleman,  unused  to  boats,  had  lost  his  balance,  or  his  cour- 
age, and  had  fallen  overboard.  Kate  had  dived  after  him  as 
he  sank,  and  fished  him  up  again. 

The  Pink  Terrace,  the  object  of  our  voyage,  opened  out  be- 
fore us  on  the  opposite  shore.  It  was  formed  on  the  same 
lines  as  the  other,  save  that  it  was  narrower,  and  was  flushed 
with  pale  rose  colour.  Oxide  of  iron  is  said  to  be  the  cause, 
but  there  is  probably  something  besides.  The  water  has  not, 
I  believe,  been  completely  analysed.  Miss  Mari  used  her 
paddle  like  a  mistress.  She  carried  us  over  with  no  worse 
misfortune  than  a  light  splashing,  and  landed  us  at  the  Ter- 
race-foot. It  was  here,  if  anywhere,  that  the  ablutions  were 
to  take  place.  To  my  great  relief  I  found  that  a  native  youth 
was  waiting  with  the  towels,  and  that  we  were  to  be  spared 
the  ladies'  assistance.  They — Kate  and  Mari — withdrew  to 
wallow,  rhinoceros-like,  in  a  mud  pool  of  their  own.  The 
youth  took  charge  of  us  and  led  us  up  the  shining  stairs. 
The  crystals  were  even  more  beautiful  than  those  which  we 
had  seen,  falling  like  clusters  of  rosy  icicles,  or  hanging  in 
festoons  like  creepers  trailing  from  a  rail.  At  the  foot  of 
each  cascade  the  water  lay  in  pools  of  ultramarine,  their  ex- 
quisite colour  being  due  in  part,  I  suppose,  to  the  light  of  the 
sky  refracted  upwards  from  the  bottom.  In  the  deepest  of 
these  we  were  to  bathe.  The  temperature  was  94°  or  95°. 

The  water  lay  inviting  in  its  crystal  basin.     E declined 

the  adventure.  I  and  A.  hung  our  clothes  on  a  Ti-bush  and 
followed  our  Maori,  who  had  already  plunged  in,  being  un- 
encumbered, except  with  a  blanket,  to  show  us  the  way.  His 
black  head  and  copper  shoulders  were  so  animal-like  that  I 
did  not  entirely  admire  his  company  ;  but  he  was  a  man  and 


The  Pink  Terrace.  291 

a  brother,  and  I  knew  that  he  must  be  clean,  at  any  rate, 
poor  fellow  !  from  perpetual  washing.  The  water  was  deep 
enough  to  swim  in  comfortably,  though  not  over  our  heads. 
We  lay  on  our  backs  and  floated  for  ten  minutes  in  exquisite 
enjoyment,  and  the  alkali,  or  the  flint,  or  the  perfect  purity 
of  the  element,  seemed  to  saturate  our  systems.  I,  for  one, 
when  I  was  dressed  again,  could  have  fancied  myself  back  in 
the  old  days  when  I  did  not  know  that  I  had  a  body,  and 
could  run  up  hill  as  lightly  as  down.  Tbe  bath  over,  we 
pursued  our  way.  The  marvel  of  the  Terrace  was  still  before 
us,  reserved  to  the  last,  like  the  finish  in  a  pheasant  battue. 
The  crater  at  the  White  Terrace  had  been  boiling  ;  the  steam 
rushing  out  from  it  had  filled  the  air  with  cloud  ;  and  the 
scorching  heat  had  kept  us  at  a  distance.  Here  the  tempera- 
ture was  twenty  degrees  lower  ;  there  was  still  vapour  hover- 
ing over  the  surface,  but  it  was  lighter  and  more  transparent, 
and  a  soft  breeze  now  and  then  blew  it  completely  aside. 
We  could  stand  on  the  brim  and  gaze  as  through  an  opening 
in  the  earth  into  an  azure  infinity  beyond.  Down  and  down, 
and  fainter  and  softer  as  they  receded,  the  white  crystals  pro- 
jected from  the  rocky  walls  over  the  abyss,  till  they  seemed 
to  dissolve  not  into  darkness  but  into  light.  The  hue  of  the 
water  was  something  which  I  had  never  seen,  and  shall  never 
again  see  on  this  side  of  eternity.  Not  the  violet,  not  the 
hare-bell,  nearest  in  its  tint  to  heaven  of  all  nature's  flowers ; 
not  turquoise,  not  sapphire,  not  the  unfathomable  aether  itself 
could  convey  to  one  who  had  not  looked  on  it  a  sense  of  that 
supernatural  loveliness.  Comparison  could  only  soil  such 
inimitable  purity.  The  only  colour  I  ever  saw  in  sky  or  on 
earth  in  the  least  resembling  the  aspect  of  this  extraordinary 
pool  was  the  flame  of  burning  sulphur.  Here  was  a  bath,  if 
mortal  flesh  could  have  borne  to  dive  into  it !  Had  it  been 
in  Norway,  we  should  have  seen  far  down  the  floating  Lorelei, 
inviting  us  to  plunge  and  leave  life  and  all  belonging  to  it  for 


292  Oceana. 

such  a  home  and  such  companionship.  It  was  a  bath  for  the 
gods  and  not  for  man.  Artemis  and  her  nymphs  should  have 
been  swimming  there,  and  we  Actseons  daring  our  fate  to 
gaze  on  them. 

This  was  the  end  of  our  adventure — a  unique  experience. 
There  was  nothing  more  to  see,  and  any  more  vulgar  wonders 
would  have  now  been  too  taine  to  interest  us.  Kate  and 
Mari  had  finished  their  ablutions  and  returned  to  the  canoe. 
They  called  to  us  to  come.  We  washed  out  our  canvas  shoes 
with  the  lake  water,  as,  if  left  to  dry  as  they  were,  they 
would  have  stiffened  into  flint.  We  lay  again  upon  our  fern 
leaves.  Marileha  resumed  her  paddle,  and,  singing  Maori 
songs — the  vowel  sounds  drawn  out  in  wild  and  plaintive 
melody — she  rowed  us  down  the  lake,  and  down  the  river 
to  Tarawara.  Flights  of  ducks  rose  noisily  out  of  the 
reed-beds.  Cormorants  wheeled  above  our  heads.  Great 
water-hens,  with  crimson  heads  and  steadfast  eyes,  stared  at 
us  as  we  went  by.  The  stream,  when  we  struck  into  it,  ran 
deep  and  swift  and  serpentine,  low  hidden  between  flags  and 
bushes.  It  was  scarcely  as  broad  as  our  canoe  was  long,  and 
if  we  had  touched  the  bank  anywhere  we  should  have  been 
overturned.  Spurts  of  steam  shot  out  at  us  from  holes  in 
the  banks.  By  this  time  it  seemed  natural  that  they  should 
be  there  as  part  of  the  constitution  of  things.  Miss  Mali's 
dog  swam  panting  behind  us,  and  whining  to  his  mistress  to 
take  him  up,  which  she  wouldn't  do.  In  a  few  minutes  we 
were  at  the  spot  where  we  had  landed  in  the  morning.  Our 
five  Maoris  woke  out  of  their  blankets  and  took  their  oars 
again,  and  in  two  more  hours  we  were  ourselves  crawling  up 
the  same  path  from  the  Lake  boat-house  to  Wairoa,  on  which 
we  had  watched  the  returning  party  of  the  preceding  day. 
There  were  fine  festivities  in  the  village  that  evening,  our 
four  pounds  being  all  converted  into  whiskey.  We  did  not 
stay  to  witness  them,  but  drove  back  at  once  to  Ohinemutu, 


The  Pink  Terrace.  293 

the  blue  lake  looking  more  mysterious  than  ever  in  the  au- 
tumnal twilight,  and  the  shadows  in  the  forest  deeper  and 
grander.  An  hour  later  it  would  have  been  all  ablaze  with 
fire-flies,  but  we  were  hurrying  home  to  be  in  time  for  dinner, 
and  missed  so  appropriate  a  close  for  our  generally  witch-like 
expedition. 


294  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  XVH 

Ohinemuta  again — Visitors — A  Maori  village — An  old  woman  and  hei 
portrait — Mokoia  island — The  inhabitants — Maori  degeneracy — Re- 
turn to  Auckland — Rumours  of  war  with  Russia — Wars  of  the  future 
— Probable  change  in  their  character. 

THE  time  of  our  stay  at  Oliinemutu  depended  on  Sir  George 
Grey.  He  had  held  out  hopes  of  showing  us  the  Maori 
monarch.  He  was  to  let  us  know  whether  he  could  come  up, 
and  when.  We  found  no  letter  from  him  as  we  expected, 

and  E ,  who  wished  to  see  the  utmost  possible  in  the 

four  weeks  allowed  us,  was  a  little  impatient.  However  we 
settled  to  remain  a  day  or  two  longer.  We  had  not  half 
seen  the  immediate  neighbourhood.  I  for  myself  could  be 
very  happy,  poking  about  among  the  springs  and  the  native 
huts,  and  doing  amateur  geology  and  botany.  The  river  of 
tourists  was  flowing  full  as  ever.  There  had  been  thirty-five 
new  arrivals  at  our  single  hotel  during  our  brief  absence. 
They  were  mainly  Australians  on  an  excursion  trip,  and  I 
found  that  I  had  already  met  several  of  them  at  Melbourne 
or  Sydney.  The  natives,  when  observed  more  at  leisure, 
were  not  so  absolutely  inactive.  There  is  a  small  fish  in  the 
lake  like  whitebait,  which  multiplies  preternaturally  in  the 
tepid  water,  especially  as  there  is  nothing  there  to  eat  it. 
The  men  net  them  in  millions,  spread  them  out  on  mats  in 
the  sun  to  dry  them,  and  infect  seriously,  for  the  time  being, 
the  sweetness  of  the  atmosphere.  I  was  anxious  to  see  a  little 
more  of  the  people,  and,  if  I  could,  at  some  spot  where  they 
were  not,  as  in  Ohinemutu,  artificially  maintained  in  idlenesa 


A  Maori   Village.  295 

There  was  a  second  village  on  the  lake  a  few  miles  off,  and 
one  afternoon  we  walked  along  the  shore  to  look  at  it.  We 
found  distinct  improvement.  There  was  less  money  going 
about,  either  from  visitors  or  the  Government,  and  conse- 
quently more  signs  of  industry.  The  soil  was  almost  black, 
so  rich  it  was.  A  few  acres  of  it  were  spade  cultivated,  much 
like  an  English  allotment  garden,  and  were  covered  with 
patches  of  potatoes,  maize,  and  tobacco. 

The  cabins  are  of  the  purely  primitive  type — four  mud 
walls,  two  gables,  a  roof  of  poles  leaning  against  each  other  at 
a  high  angle  and  filled  in  with  reed  and  turf.  Essentially  they 
are  exactly  the  same  as  the  mud  cabins  in  Ireland,  but  they 
are  cleaner,  neater,  and  better  kept.  Round  each  is  a  stout 
Ti-tree  fence,  through  which  the  pigs,  at  any  rate,  are  not 
allowed  free  entrance.  As  in  Ireland,  however,  it  was  the 
wrong  sex  that  was  doing  the  hardest  work.  The  men  lay 
about  on  the  ground,  or  looking  on  while  the  women  were  dig- 
ging. We  saw  more  than  one  young  mother  with  a  child 
slung  in  a  pouched  shawl  at  her  back  as  if  she  were  an  in- 
verted marsupial,  hoeing  maize  and  turning  up  potatoes, 
while  the  husband  sate  smoking  his  pipo  as  composedly  as  if 
he  had  been  bred  in  Conuemara.  Natives  in  a  declining 
moral  condition  show  the  same  symptoms,  whatever  be  the 
colour  of  the  skin.  We  felt  a  little  uncomfortable  in  tres- 
passing on  their  private  grounds.  They  are  proud  in  their 
way,  and  do  not  approve  of  liberties  being  taken  with  them, 
and  as  we  could  command  no  word  of  Maori  and  they  under- 
stood no  English,  we  could  neither  ask  leave,  nor  even  begin 
an  acquaintance.  They  were  perfectly  quiet,  however,  and 
let  us  walk  by  without  seeming  to  notice  us.  We  ought  to 
have  done  the  same,  but  alas !  we  didn't.  On  our  way  back 
we  passed  a  cottage  with  creepers  growing  over  the  roof,  a 
patch  of  garden,  and  a  clump  of  bushes  closing  it  in  and 
sheltering  it.  Before  the  door  an  ancient  Maori  dame,  black- 


290  Oceana. 

Laired,  black-eyed,  but  with  a  skin  wriukled  by  the  suns  of 
many  summers,  \vas  engaged  in  drying  some  fish.  She  was 
a  hard-looking  old  savage,  bare-headed,  bare-armed,  and  bare- 
legged, \vith  a  short  brown  petticoat  and  a  handkerchief 

crossed  over  her  neck.     The  scene  was  characteristic  ;  E 

wished  for  a  recollection  of  it  and  produced  his  sketch-book. 
Now  the  natives  object  strongly  to  being  drawn — either  them- 
selves or  their  houses.  Partly  they  look  on  it  as  enchant- 
ment, partly  as  a  taking  away  something  of  theirs  for  which 
their  leave  is  required,  and  a  bargain  arranged  beforehand. 

E had  forgotten  his  experience  at  the  Terraces,  or  had 

supposed  it  to  be  only  one  of  the  many  forms  of  extortion  there. 
He  sate  himself  down  in  the  fern,  about  half  a  dozen  yards 
from  where  the  old  woman  was  at  work,  lighted  a  cigar,  and 
began  to  draw.  She  looked  up  uneasily,  glanced  first  at 

E and  then  called  to  some  of  her  own  people,  who  were 

digging  potatoes  not  very  far  off.  Either  they  did  not  hear 
her  or  did  not  understand  what  was  the  matter.  They  took 
no  notice  and  she  turned  again  to  her  fish.  But  sho  was 
evidently  restive.  Presently  she  raised  herself  to  her  full 

height,  turned  direct  to  E and  then  to  us,  and  gave  a 

long  howl,     E sate  on,  puffing  his  cigar,  glancing  at  her 

movements  with  increasing  interest  and-  transferring  them  to 
his  paper.  She  howled  again,  and  as  he  showed  no  sign  of 
moving  she  made  a  step  towards  him,  flashing  her  eyes  and 
gesticulating  violently.  The  more  angry  she  grew,  the  more 
picturesque  became  her  figure  and  the  more  deliberately 

E studied  her.     She  snatched  up  a  stick  and  shook  it  at 

him.  The  arm  and  stick  were  instantly  introduced  into  the 
drawing.  It  was  too  much ;  she  went  for  him  like  a  fury, 
came  so  close  that  she  could  have  struck  him,  and  had  her 
arm  raised  to  do  it.  With  the  most  entire  imperturbability 
he  did  not  move  a  muscle,  but  smoked  on  and  drew  as  calmly 
as  if  he  had  been  drawing  a  tree  or  a  rock.  Her  features 


Mokoia.  297 

were  convulsed  with  rage.  His  indifference  paralysed  her, 
perhaps  frightened  her.  There  is  a  mesmerism  in  absolute 
coolness  which  is  too  strong  for  excited  nerves.  She  dropped 
her  stick,  turned  sullenly  round,  and  hid  herself  in  her  cabin. 

Poor  old  woman !  E 's  composure  was  admirable,  but  I 

felt  real  sorrow  for  her. 

I  mentioned  Mokoia,  and  our  intention  of  paying  a  visit  to 
so  romantic  and  historical  a  spot.  The  island  lay  four  miles 
off  in  front  of  our  window  ;  and  there  was  a  sailing-boat  ready 
to  take  us  over.  We  should  see  the  bath  in  which  Hinemoia 
warmed  herself  after  her  long  swim  ;  in  a  tree  there  the  bones 
were  said  to  be  still  mouldering  where  they  had  been  thrown 
by  Hangi  after  his  dinner.  Our  hostess,  who  knew  the  place, 
urged  us  not  to  leave  Rotorua  without  seeing  it,  and  even  vol- 
unteered her  services  as  guide  again.  It  was  very  good  of 
her,  and  she  would  have  gone  had  she  not  been  called  away 
to  arbitrate  in  a  land  dispute.  We  had  to  be  content  with 
our  own  company,  but  the  dangers  and  difficulties  were  not 
great.  Mokoia  is  a  sleeping  volcano  which  has  been  thrown 
up  in  the  middle  of  the  water,  or  may  have  been  raised  before 
there  was  a  lake  at  all.  The  ridges  on  the  top  are  densely 
wooded  and  entirely  unoccupied,  but  on  the  north  side  is  a 
long,  low,  level  plain,  a  thousand  acres  or  so  in  extent,  ex- 
tremely fertile  and  well-filled  with  people  who  have  occupied 
it  again  since  Hangi's  raid.  Once  Mokoia  was  a  favourite 
missionary  station,  and  the  good  people  have  left  pleasant 
traces  of  their  presence  there.  We  found  in  the  gardens 
peaches,  figs,  apples,  pears,  potatoes,  maize,  parsnips,  peas 
and  beans ;  and  tobacco,  green  and  growing.  The  mission- 
aries were  not  always  wise,  but  they  meant  well  always,  did 
well  often,  and  deserve  to  be  more  kindly  remembered  than 
they  are. 

We  landed  close  to  the  bath,  saw  the  bushes  under  which 
Hinemoia  had  hid  herself,  and  her  lover's  cabin  where  they 


298  Oceana. 

lived  happy  ever  after.  The  island  was  very  pretty,  rock, 
wood,  water,  and  cultivation  pleasantly  combined.  The  mis- 
sionaries are  departed.  There  was  no  sign  of  chapel,  church, 
or  heathen  temple.  The  people  seemed  to  be  altogether 
pagans,  but  pagans  of  an  innocent  kind.  In  other  respects,  if 
I  had  been  carried  into  Mokoia  and  awakened  suddenly,  I 
should  have  imagined  myself  in  Mayo  or  Galway  as  they  were 
forty  years  ago.  There  were  the  same  cabins,  the  same  chil- 
dren running  about  barefoot  and  half-naked,  the  same  pigs, 
the  same  savage  taste  for  brilliant  colours,  the  women  wear- 
ing madder-coloured  petticoats  ;  the  same  distribution  of  em- 
ployment between  the  sexes,  the  wife  working  in  the  fields, 
the  man  lying  on  his  back  and  enjoying  himself.  The  Moko- 
ians  were  perhaps  less  ragged  than  the  Irish  used  to  be,  other- 
wise Nature  had  created  an  identical  organisation  on  the 
opposite  side  of  the  planet.  Even  the  children  had  learnt  to 
beg  in  the  same  note,  the  little  wretches  with  hands  thrust 
out  and  mouths  open  clamouring  for  halfpennies. 

There  were  flights  of  gulls  on  the  lake — drawn  thither,  I 
suppose,  by  the  whitefish.  Otherwise  I  had  seen  few  birds 
in  the  district,  as  indeed  anywhere  in  New  Zealand.  Mokoia, 
however,  was  full  of  them.  The  English  sparrow  was  there — 
where  is  he  not  ? — taking  possession  of  everything,  as  if  Nat- 
ure had  been  thinking  only  of  him  Avhen  she  made  the  world. 
There  were  native  birds  also,  hiding  in  the  foliage  of  the  thick 
trees,  with  a  deep  cooing  note,  something  like  the  Australian 
magpie 'a  These  were  chary  of  showing  themselves.  One  that 
I  caught  sight  of  was  like  a  blackcap,  and  of  the  size  of  a  thrush. 

It  was  hard  to  realise  that  this  sunny,  dreamy  island  had 
been  the  scene  of  such  unspeakable  horrors  in  tbe  days  of 
Bible  Societies  and  Exeter  Hall  philanthropy.  Men,  still 
living,  may  remember  Hangi,1  who  in  his  time  was  a  London 

1  I  tell  Hangi's  story  merely  from  the  traditions  on  t'-.e  spot,  which  may 
require  correction  before  they  caii  be  accepted  as  accurate. 


The  Maori,  Past  and  Present.  299 

lion,  much  rejoiced  over  on  platforms,  and  who  showed  the 
fruits  of  his  conversion  in  that  spot  in  so  singular  a  manner. 
We  found  a  tree,  with  a  few  bones  in  a  cleft  of  it.  The  trunk 
bore  the  names  of  many  visitors  cut  into  its  bark,  and  I  pre- 
sume, therefore,  was  the  original  one.  The  bones  were  prob- 
ably what  tradition  said  they  were,  and  the  owner  of  them 
had  played  a  part  in  that  tragady,  as  killer,  or  killed,  or  both. 

Mokoia  would  be  a  pretty  possession  for  anyone  who,  like 
Sancho  Panza,  wished  for  an  island  all  his  own  to  occupy. 
Sir  George  Grey  had  thought  of  buying  it,  before  he  settled 
at  Kawau.  We  made  a  sketch  or  two  without  being  inter- 
fered with  ;  we  ate  our  luncheon,  and  sailed  home  again. 

We  had  been  now  a  week  at  Ohinemutu.  Sir  George  Grey 
had  been  detained  at  Auckland  by  other  arrivals  there,  and 
had  been  unable  to  join  us.  Without  him,  it  was  useless  to 
think  of  going  into  the  country  of  the  King,  and  this  part  of 
our  scheme  had  to  be  abandoned.  I  was  sorry  ;  for  a  sight 
of  the  natives  who  had  kept  their  old  customs,  and  had  lived 
removed  from  European  influence,  might  have  modified  the 
dreary  impression  which  had  been  left  upon  me  by  those 
whom  I  had  seen.  The  Maori  warrior,  before  the  English 
landed  in  New  Zealand,  was  brave,  honourable,  and  chival- 
rous ;  like  Achilles,  he  hated  liars  '  as  the  gates  of  Hell ; ' 
fire-water  had  not  taught  him  the  delights  of  getting  drunk  ; 
and  the  fragments  which  survive  of  his  poetry  touch  all  the 
notes  of  imaginative  humanity — the  lover's  passion,  the  grief 
for  the  dead,  the  fierce  delight  of  battle,  the  calm  enjoyment 
of  a  sunlit  landscape,  or  the  sense  of  a  spiritual  presence  in 
storm  or  earthquake,  or  the  star-spangled  midnight  sky.  The 
germ  of  every  feeling  is  to  be  found  there  which  has  been  de- 
veloped in  Europe  into  the  finest  literature  and  art ;  and  the 
Maori  man  and  Maori  woman,  as  we  had  seen  them,  did  not 
seem  to  have  derived  much  benefit  from  the  introduction  of 
'  the  blessings  of  civilisation.'  Their  interest  now  is  in  animal 


300  Oceana. 

sloth  and  animal  indulgence,  and  they  have  no  other  ;  the  man 
as  if  he  had  nothing  else  left  to  work  for  or  to  care  for ;  the 
woman  counting  it  an  honour  to  bear  a  half-caste  child.  It  is 
with  the  wild  races  of  human  beings  as  with  wild  animals,  and 
birds,  and  trees,  and  plants.  Those  only  will  survive  who 
can  domesticate  themselves  into  servants  of  the  modern  forms 
of  social  development.  The  lion  and  the  leopard,  the  eagle 
and  the  hawk,  every  creature  of  earth  or  air,  which  is  wildly 
free,  dies  off  or  disappears  ;  the  sheep,  the  ox,  the  horse,  the 
ass  accepts  his  bondage  and  thrives  and  multiplies.  So  it  is 
with  man.  The  negro  submits  to  the  conditions,  becomes 
useful,  and  rises  to  a  higher  leveL  The  Red  Indian  and  the 
Maori  pine  away  as  in  a  cage,  sink  first  into  apathy  and  moral 
degradation,  and  then  vanish. 

I  am  told  that  the  Catholic  missionaries  produce  a  more 
permanent  effect  on  the  Maories  than  the  Protestants  do.  If 
one  and  the  other  could  learn  from  the  Mahometans  to  forbid 
drink  and  practically  prevent  it,  they  might  both  of  them  be 
precious  instruments  in  saving  a  remnant  of  this  curiously  in- 
teresting people. 

We  returned  to  Auckland  as  we  had  come,  sleeping  a  night 
on  the  way  at  Oxford,  where  I  found  the  landlord  still  busy 
over  his  Artesian  well.  At  the  Club  everybody  was  talking 
of  the  coming  war  with  Russia.  The  reluctance  with  which 
Mr.  Gladstone  would  embark  in  such  an  enterprise  was  well 
understood  ;  but  the  Egyptian  business  was  supposed  to  have 
shaken  his  popularity,  and  it  was  expected  that  he  would  now 
go  with  the  stream,  to  keep  himself  and  his  party  in  office.  I 
for  my  own  pai't  was  incredulous.  I  could  not  believe  that 
he  would  so  soon  forget  what  he  had  said  and  done  seven 
years  ago.  Mad  as  people  are  when  the  war  fever  is  upon 
them,  I  could  not  believe  that  England  herself,  in  a  mere 
panic,  which  in  a  few  months  she  would  be  ashamed  of,  could 
insist  on  starting  a  conflict  over  a  mere  frontier  dispute  in 


War  JZumours.  301 

Afghanistan,  which  would  probably  spread  to  Europe  and  set 
the  world  on  fire.  Yet  we  were  living  in  impulsive  days,  and 
parliaments,  led  by  irresponsible  orators,  might  rush  at  prob- 
lems which  single  statesmen  would  pause  over.  It  was  im- 
possible to  say  that  there  could  not  be  war,  and  a  person  like 
myself,  who  had  never  shared  in  the  general  alarm  about  the 
aggressive  Muscovite,  could  only  regret  the  desperate  conse- 
quences which  seemed  too  likely  to  follow. 

I  had  always  thought  and  I  still  think  it  improbable  in  the 
highest  degree,  that  Russia  should  have  designs  upon  British 
India,  She  has  work  enough  upon  her  hands  elsewhere,  and 
the  object  to  be  gained  is  incommensurate  with  the  risk.  We 
have  ourselves  three  times  invaded  Afghanistan,  burnt  the 
bazaar  at  Cabul,  and  killed  a  great  many  thousand  people  to 
teach  them  to  love  us.  Even  now  it  is  doubtful  if  we  could 
count  upon  their  friendship,  and,  on  the  mere  ground  of  fair- 
ness, we  were  not  in  a  position  to  declare  war  against  another 
power  for  doing  as  we  had  done  ourselves  and  drawing  her 
frontier  in  that  quarter  as  her  military  necessities  required. 
It  was  again  uncertain  to  me  whether,  if  we  had  determined 
to  fight,  we  were  choosing  a  favourable  battlefield,  so  far  away 
from  our  own  resources.  At  the  commencement  of  our  wars 
we  were  generally  unsuccessful.  If  the  Afghans  did  not  love 
us,  as  perhaps  they  didn't,  and  were  prepared  to  throw  in 
their  lot  with  the  strongest  side,  a  reverse  might  decide  them 
to  be  our  enemies,  and  in  the  event  of  a  serious  misfortune, 
such  as  befell  us  at  the  Khyber  Pass,  the  Native  States  might 
be  disturbed  in  India  itself.  Nor  did  I  think  that  the  irrita- 
tion in  England  was  based  on  a  well-considered  knowledge  of 
the  real  state  of  Russia.  We  spoke  of  her  at  one  time  as  a 
modern  Macedonia,  dangerous,  from  her  unceasing  encroach- 
ments, to  the  liberties  of  Europe  ;  at  another,  as  bankrupt 
in  finance,  as  honeycombed  with  disaffection,  as  so  weak  that 
Cobden,  in  a  memorable  speech,  talked  of  crumpling  her  up 


302  Oceana. 

in  his  left  hand.  She  could  not  be  all  these  things  at  once. 
If  she  was  weak,  Europe  need  not  be  afraid  of  her.  If 
she  was  strong,  the  struggle  might  be  serious  and  not  to 
be  lightly  entered  on.  The  contempt  and  fear  combined, 
which  seemed  to  be  the  feelings  entertained  by  us,  were 
rather  indications  of  dislike  to  Kussia  and  anger  at  it,  than 
signs  of  any  sound  insight  into  her  actual  condition.  What- 
ever might  be  the  result  of  a  war  with  her,  it  would  be  likely 
to  verify  the  saying  that  '  nothing  was  certain  but  the  unfore- 
seen.' The  risk  would  be  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  advan- 
tage to  be  gained  if  we  were  victorious. 

These  views  I  ventured  now  and  then  to  express,  but  I  had 
to  be  cautious,  for  the  patriotism  of  the  colonists  was  inflam- 
mable as  gunpowder.  To  be  against  war  was  to  be  lukewarm 
to  our  country,  and  half-a-dozen  regiments  could  have  been 
raised  with  ease  in  New  Zealand  alone,  to  march  to  Herat.  I 
did  venture,  however,  to  express  a  hope  that,  if  there  was  to 
be  war,  Mr.  Gladstone  would  leave  the  work  to  others,  and 
would  not  crown  the  inconsistencies  of  his  late  career  by 
adopting  a  policy  which  he  had  condemned  in  his  rival  with 
all  the  powers  of  his  eloquence.  Nay  I  suggested  also  that,  in 
these  democratic  days,  a  better  expedient  than  national  wars 
would  by-and-by  perhaps  be  accepted — as  easy  of  application 
as  it  would  be  infinitely  beneficial  to  the  entire  communities 
concerned.  Ministers  of  different  nations  fall  out  from  time 
to  time  about  various  questions.  Things  in  themselves  of  no 
significance  at  all  are  made  of  importance  by  the  fact  of  being 
insisted  on.  Despatches  are  exchanged,  each  unanswerable 
from  its  own  point  of  view,  and  the  object  on  each  side  is  not 
to  settle  the  quarrel  but  to  put  the  other  in  the  wrong.  At 
last,  when  diplomacy  has  succeeded  in  tying  the  knot  so  tight 
that  it  cannot  be  disentangled,  the  persons  who  have  con- 
ducted the  negotiations  come  to  their  respective  country- 
men, and  say  :  '  We  have  done  our  best,  but  you  see  how  it 


War  Under  Democracies.  303 

is :  the  perfidious  A.  or  perfidious  B.  is  determined  in  his 
wicked  courses.  There  is  but  one  way  out  of  it.  You  must 
fight.'  Fighting,  as  it  is  now  carried  on  between  great  nations, 
means  the  killing  of  hundreds  of  thousands  of  people,  and 
the  wasting  of  hundreds  of  millions  of  money  ;  and  it  seems 
to  me  that  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  this  expenditure  is  not  the 
least  necessary.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten  it  can  make  no  sen- 
sible difference  to  the  great  body  of  the  nation  which  way  the 
matter  is  decided.  No  one  will  pretend,  for  instance,  that  any 
English  labourer's  family  would  be  differently  fed,  differently 
clothed,  or  differently  lodged  if  the  eastern  Kussian  frontier 
were  drawn  in  a  few  miles  this  way  or  that  way.  Therefore 
I  think  the  people  will  by-and-by  reply  on  such  occasions  to 
their  rulers,  '  It  may  be  as  you  say,  gentlemen.  A.  or  B.  may 
be  very  wicked,  and  this  question,  which  you  tell  us  is  of  con- 
sequence, cannot  be  settled  without  fighting.  You  under- 
stand these  matters  ;  we  do  not  understand.  But  we  cannot 
all  fight.  We  must  fight  by  representatives — by  men  whom 
we  hire  for  the  purpose,  more  or  fewer,  and  fewer  better  than 
more.  You  have  made  this  quarrel  ;  do  you  fight  it  out. 
Take  your  revolvers,  go  into  the  back  square  in  your  Foreign 
Office.  A.  or  B.'s  people  will  take  the  same  view  of  it  that  we 
do — let  their  ministers  come  with  their  revolvers  in  equal 
numbers.  See  which  are  the  best  men  and  we  will  abide  by 
the  result.  If  you  win  you  shall  have  as  many  honours  as  you 
like.  We  shall  not  be  wanting  in  generosity  if  you  let  us  save 
our  skins  and  purses.  The  economy  will  be  infinite,  the  dim- 
inution of  human  suffering  incalculable,  and  things  will  be 
settled  probably  just  as  well  as  if  we  all  tore  ourselves  to 
pieces.' 

I  do  not  see  why  it  should  not  come  to  this,  and  if  the 
great  Demos  who  has  now  the  power  in  his  hands  under- 
stands how  to  use  it,  I  think  it  will.  The  only  disadvantage, 
if  it  be  one,  is  that  the  occasion  for  such  a  tournament  would 


304  Oceana. 

never  rise,  and  disputes  found  now  incapable  of  peaceful  set. 
tlement,  would  be  settled  very  easily  indeed. 

Auckland  wearied  me  with  its  valiant  talk.  We  had  an 
officer  there — an  excellent  fellow  in  his  way — who  had  fought 
in  our  own  Afghanistan  wars,  who  knew  the  ground,  and  had 
maps,  and  passed  as  an  authority.  He  proved  to  us,  by  argu- 
ments completely  satisfactory  to  himself,  that  unless  we  seized 
Russia  by  the  throat  and  hurled  her  back  upon  the  Caspian 
we  were  a  ruined  nation.  Everybody  seemed  to  agree  with 
him,  and  I  was  in  a  minority  of  one.  I  was  relieved,  there- 
fore, when  a  message  came  from  Sir  George  Grey  that  he 
was  at  his  island  and  was  expecting  us  to  go  to  him  without 
delay. 


CHAPTEK 

Sir  George  Grey's  Island — Climate — House — Curiosities — Sir  George's 
views  on  Cape  politics — His  hobbies — Opinions  on  federation — Island 
retainers — Their  notion  of  liberty — Devotion  to  their  employer — 
Birds  and  animals — expedition  into  the  interior — A  Maori  dining- 
hall — Sharkfishing— Caught  in  a  storm — Run  for  the  mainland — A 
New  Zealand  farm  and  its  occupants — End  of  visit  to  Sir  George — 
Auckland  society — Professor  Aldis — General  impression  on  the  state 
of  New  Zealand — Growth  of  state  debt  and  municipal  debt — Seeming 
approach  of  war — Party  government. 

KAWAU,  or  Shag  Island,  lies  at  the  mouth  of  the  Hauraki  Gulf, 
four  miles  from  the  mainland  and  about  thirty  in  a  direct  line 
from  Auckland.  It  is  one  of  a  considerable  group  which  lie 
scattered  along  the  east  coast.  Outside  it  is  the  Great  Bar- 
rier Island — a  mountain  with  a  serrated  back,  rising  three 
thousand  feet  out  of  the  sea,  and  serving  as  a  breakwater 
against  the  ocean  swell. 

Long,  wooded  headlands  project  from  the  shores  of  the  gulf, 
which  holds  Kawau  in  its  arms.  The  climate  is  soft  as  in 
Southern  Italy  ;  oranges  grow  freely  in  the  gardens,  and  rare 
flowering  shrubs  from  South  America  or  Japan.  The  sea  is 
the  purest  blue,  and  the  air  moist  and  balmy,  tempered  with 
the  moderate  rain,  which  is  enough  always  and  rarely  exces- 
sive. The  bays  swarm  with  fish,  and — to  take  the  evil  with 
the  good — swarm  also  with  the  sharks  that  prey  on  them  ; 
but  even  the  sharks  here  are  fit  for  Maori's  food,  or  for  ma- 
nure for  the  vegetables  and  fruit-trees.  Weekly  steamers 
from  Auckland  ply  among  the  inlets,  making  the  circuit  of 
various  stations  before  they  reach  Kawau,  and  end  the  day 
20 


300  Occana. 

at  anchor  under  Sir  George's  windows,  when  they  have  landed 
his  visitors  and  his  post-bag.  The  voyage  to  such  a  spot  was 
in  itself  delightful,  with  such  a  prospect  at  the  close  of  it. 

We  started  on  a  still,  warm  morning  after  breakfast.  Our 
first  halt  was  at  Waiwera,  fifteen  miles  off —an  ambitious  little 
watering-place  with  a  hot  spring  of  its  own,  and  a  large, 
handsome  boarding-house,  where  the  Auckland  people  go  to 
refresh  themselves  in  sultry  weather.  We  landed  passengers 
on  a  shallow  beach,  horses  and  carts  coming  down  for  them 
into  the  water  to  the  boats.  A  day  or  two  could  have  been 
spent  pleasantly  there  if  we  could  have  afforded  them,  but  time 
was  inexorable.  We  touched  again  and  again  for  one  purpose 
or  another.  Late  in  the  afternoon,  we  brought  up  at  a  pier 
at  a  river's  mouth  where  there  was  a  considerable  business. 
We  had  stores  on  board  from  the  Auckland  merchants  for  the 
farmhouses  higher  up  the  stream,  which  the  young  farmers  and 
their  wives  were  waiting  in  their  boats  to  receive  and  carry 
home — a  pretty  and  interesting  scene,  the  first  sight  of  New 
Zealand  country  life  of  a  healthy  sort  which  we  had  met  with, 
the  first  sign  of  genuine  growth  ;  watering-places,  and  mush- 
room cities,  and  members  of  the  legislature  being  exotics  of 
uncertain  continuance.  The  steamer  herself  was  not  amiss. 
She  was  a  poor  little  tug,  but  she  struggled  along  at  fair 
speed.  The  cabin  was  clean,  and  they  gave  us  a  dinner  on 
board  better  than  one  sometimes  meets  with  in  the  great 
Atlantic  or  Pacific  floating  palaces.  It  was  five  in  the  even- 
ing before  we  turned  our  head  at  last  towards  the  harbour  at 
Kawau  and  saw  the  white  front  of  Sir  George's  house  at  the 
bottom  of  a  deeply  wooded  inlet,  the  hills  rising  behind  it, 
the  soft  still  sea,  and  the  tiny  islands  on  its  skirts  like  patches 
of  forest  left  behind  when  the  water  had  cut  them  off  from 
the  land,  as  beautiful  as  eye  could  rest  on.  Fishing-boats 
with  red  sails  were  floating  dreamily  homewards  in  the  calm 
— sails  of  the  familiar  cut  of  the  English  Channel,  telling  of 


Sir  George  at  Home.  307 

the  presence  of  English  hands  and  English  hearts.  The  water 
is  deep  enough  at  Sir  George's  pier  to  allow  the  steamer  to 
run  alongside.  At  the  end  of  it  we  found  our  host  himself, 
with  Professor  and  Mrs.  Aldis,  who  were  staying  with  him. 
From  Ohinemutu  and  its  tourists,  from  the  Auckland  Club 
and  its  politicians,  we  had  passed  into  an  atmosphere  of  intel- 
lect, culture,  science,  and  the  mellow  experience  of  statesman- 
ship, a  change  not  the  less  singular  from  the  place  in  which 
we  found  ourselves. 

The  house — not  a  hundred  yards  distant  from  the  landing- 
place — was  large  and  well-proportioned,  with  a  high-pitched 
roof,  a  projecting  front  towards  the  sea,  and  a  long  veran- 
dah. Two  or  three  superior-looking  men,  Sir  George's  lieges, 
took  possession  of  our  luggage.  He,  after  welcoming  us  to 
his  dominions,  led  us  over  his  residence  and  through  the 
gardens  in  the  sinking  twilight,  and  perhaps  found  an  inno- 
cent pleasure  in  our  astonishment.  Everything  which  we 
saw  was  his  own  creation,  conceived  by  himself  and  executed 
under  his  own  eye  by  his  own  feudatories.  Passing  through 
the  hall  we  entered  a  spacious  and  fine  drawing-room,  pan- 
nelled  and  vaulted  with  Kauri  pine.  At  one  end  stood  Sir 
George's  desk,  with  a  large  bible  on  it,  from  which  he  read 
daily  prayers  to  his  household.  Like  Charles  Gordon,  he  is 
old-fashioned  in  these  matters,  and  though  he  knows  all  that 
is  going  on  in  the  world — criticism,  philosophy,  modern 
science,  and  the  rest  of  it — he  believes  in  the  way  of  his 
fathers  Some  good  oil  pictures  hung  on  the  walls,  excellent 
old  engravings,  with  Maori  axes,  Caffre  shields  and  assegais, 
all  prettily  arranged.  Book-cases  and  cabinets  with  locked 
doors  contained  the  more  precious  curiosities.  On  the  table 
lay  Quarterlies,  Edinburghs,  magazines,  weeklies — the  floating 
literature  of  London,  only  a  month  or  two  behindhand. 
Every  important  movement  in  domestic,  foreign,  or  colonial 
politics  could  be  studied  as  exhaustively  at  Kawau  as  in  the 


308  Ozerma. 

reading-room  at  the  Athenaeum.  Morning-room,  dining-room, 
and  rooms  upstairs  completed  the  usual  accommodations  of 
an  ample  country  residence.  The  furniture  was  plain  and 
solid,  most  of  it  homemade,  by  Sir  George's  own  workmen, 
Kauri  pine  chiefly  providing  the  material.  Garden  and 
grounds  were  a  study  for  a  botanist,  fruit  trees,  flowering 
trees,  forest  trees  all  growing  together,  with  rare  plants  and 
shrubs  collected  miscellaneously  or  forwarded  by  correspond- 
ents. Each  thing  was  planted  where  it  would  grow  best, 
without  care  for  symmetry  or  order,  and  every  step  was  a 
surprise.  The  slopes  and  ridges  were  clothed  thickly  with 
sheltering  conifers  of  many  kinds,  which  in  twenty  years  had 
reached  their  full  stature.  Low  down  on  the  shores  the 
graceful  native  Pokutukawa  was  left  undisturbed,  the  finest 
of  the  Rata  tribe  ;  at  a  distance  like  an  flex,  only  larger  than 
any  Ilex  that  I  ever  saw,  the  branches  twisted  into  the  most 
fantastic  shapes,  stretching  out  till  their  weight  bears  them 
to  the  ground  or  to  the  water.  Pokutukawa,  in  Maori  lan- 
guage, means  '  dipped  in  the  sea  spray.'  In  spring  and  sum- 
mer it  bears  a  brilliant  crimson  flower.  The  fruit  which  it 
bore  when  we  were  at  Kawau  was  the  oyster,  clinging  in 
bunches  to  the  lowest  boughs,  which  wei-e  alternately  wetted 
and  left  dry  by  the  tide.  Oysters,  in  infinite  numbers,  cover 
every  rock,  as  we  had  seen  them  do  at  Port  Jackson. 

At  the  back  of  the  house  were  substantial  cottages  for  Sir 
George's  'hands' — a  very  superior  kind  of  'hands,' indeed, 
as  I  found  when  I  knew  them. 

In  the  evening  he  showed  us  some  of  his  treasures.  Lit- 
erary treasures  were  produced  chiefly — I  suppose  in  compli- 
ment to  me,  for  he  had  ah1  sorts.  There  were  old  illuminated 
missals  ;  an  old  French  MS.  of  the  fourteenth  century,  which 
had  belonged  once  to  Philippe  le  Bel  and  afterwards  to 
Sully ;  Old  Saints'  Lives ;  a  black-letter  Latin  Life  of  the 
Swedish  St.  Bridget,  of  whom  I  had  never  heard,  but  who,  if 


Curiosities.  309 

the  stories  told  of  her  were  true,  must  have  been  as  strange 
a  lady  as  her  Irish  namesake.  Besides  these  was  a  precious 
MS.  of  the  four  gospels  which  had  come  from  Mount  Athos  ; 
important  English  historical  MSS.,  never  printed,  of  the  time 
of  the  Commonwealth  ;  modern  translations  of  the  Bible,  &c. 
Ah1  these  he  had  himself  collected,  and  he  had  agents  all 
about  the  world  looking  out  for  him. 

While  I  was  examining  these,  E and  my  son  were  occu- 
pied over  a  cabinet  of  Maori  weapons — not  ordinary  knives  or 
lances,  but  axes  of  jade,  as  rare  as  they  were  precious.  They 
had  been  heirlooms  in  the  families  of  great  chiefs  ;  and  had 
each  killed  no  one  could  say  how  many  warriors  in  battle. 
They  were  never  parted  with  in  life,  and  had  been  bequeathed 
by  their  various  owners  to  Sir  George,  as  the  father  of  the 
Maori  race. 

In  the  morning,  when  I  looked  out,  the  air  and  water  were 
irresistible,  and  I  ventured  a  short  swim,  in  defiance  of  the 
sharks,  which  I  found  afterwards  might  very  well  have  made 
a  meal  of  me.  The  men  had  been  hauling  a  seine,  and  on 
the  sands  lay  a  row  of  mullet,  each  five  or  six  pounds  weight, 
as  silvery  as  salmon  and  almost  as  good.  On  these  and  home- 
made bread  and  cream  and  butter  from  the  dairy,  we  break- 
fasted delightfully.  The  steamer  came  up  to  the  pier,  and,  to 
my  regret,  took  the  Aldis's  away.  They  promised  that  we 
should  see  them  again  on  our  return  to  Auckland.  We  re- 
mained for  the  present  Sir  George's  only  guests.  My  two  com- 
panions, wishing  to  see  the  '  sport '  of  the  island,  went  off  with 
the  keepers  to  shoot  wallabi.  Sir  George  has  a  paternal  affec- 
tion for  all  his  creatures,  and  hates  to  have  them  killed.  But 
the  wallabi  multiply  so  fast  that  the  sheep  cannot  live  for  them, 
and  several  thousand  have  to  be  destroyed  annually.  I  went 
walking  with  Sir  George  himself.  He  was  especially  anxious  to 
hear  about  the  Cape  and  about  the  prospects  of  Sir  Charles 
Warren's  expedition,  which  he  liked  as  little  as  I  liked  it.  I  was 


310  Oceana. 

gratified  to  find  that  his  own  large  experience  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  South  Africa  confirmed  the  views  which  I  had 
myself  formed.  He  understood  the  Boers.  He  had  gone  to 
the  Cape  with  the  prejudice  against  them  generally  entertained 
in  England,  and  he  had  found  the  Boer  of  the  English  news- 
papers and  platform  speeches  a  creature  of  the  imagination, 
which  had  no  existence  in  'space  and  time.'  The  Boers  were 
simply  the  Dutch  gentlemen  and  farmers  from  whose  fathers 
and  grandfathers  we  had  taken  the  colony.  Many  of  them 
had  been  Sir  George's  subjects,  and  in  his  opinion,  as  in  mine, 
they  were  a  quiet,  orderly,  industrious,  hard-working  people, 
hurting  no  one  if  let  alone,  but  resentful  of  injuries  and  es- 
pecially of  calumnies  against  their  character.  They  were  ac- 
cused of  cruelty  to  the  native  races.  Had  the  charge  been 
true,  Sir  George  Grey,  of  all  men,  would  have  been  the  last  to 
pardon  it ;  but  it  was  no  more  true  of  them  than  it  was  true  of 
us  and,  necessarily,  of  all  colonists  who  come  in  collision  with 
the  original  owners  of  the  soil,  and  he  thought  our  perpetual 
interference  with  them  to  be  foolish  and  unjust.  Our  inter- 
ference alone  had  created  all  the  troubles  in  South  Africa. 
But  for  us  the  Dutch  and  English  inhabitants  could  live  peace- 
ably and  happily  together  without  a  word  of  difference.  We 
had  granted  the  colony  a  constitution  of  its  own.  The  Dutch 
were  the  majority,  and  a  harmonious  administration  in  South 
Africa  was  politically  impossible,  unless  we  were  prepared  to 
treat  the  Dutch  as  honourable  men,  to  meet  them  on  their 
own  ground  and  leave  them  the  same  liberties  which  we  do 
not  think  of  refusing  to  the  Australians  or  Canadians.  They 
were  a  people  who  could  never  be  driven,  but,  if  treated  frank- 
ly and  generously,  they  would  be  found  among  the  very  best 
colonists  in  all  the  British  dominions.  Sir  George  spoke 
sadly  and  wistfully.  Were  he  to  return  as  governor  to  Cape 
Town,  and  allowed  to  act  on  his  own  judgment,  he  knew  well 
that  there  would  be  no  more  trouble  there.  He  knew  also 


Sir  Geoi'ge's  Hobbies.  311 

that  it  was  impossible  for  him  to  go  in  that  capacity,  but, 
though  seventy-three  years  old  and  \vith  failing  health,  he  was 
still  thinking  of  going  there  as  a  private  individual,  and  of  try- 
ing what  he  could  do,  out  of  pure  love  for  his  own  country, 
and  disgust  at  the  follies  in  which  some  fatality  compelled  us 
to  persist. 

This  was  the  chief  subject  of  our  first  morning's  talk — this 
and  Carlyle,  whom  he  had  known  in  England,  and  whose  po- 
sition in  relation  to  his  contemporaries  he  was  under  no  mis- 
take about.  Sir  George  is  one  of  the  very  few  men  whom  I 
have  met  who,  being  a  Radical  of  the  Radicals,  and  at  all 
times  and  places  on  the  side  of  the  poor  and  helpless  against 
the  rich  and  powerful,  yet  delights  to  acknowledge  and  to 
bend  before  supreme  intellectual  greatness. 

During  the  week  which  we  spent  at  Kawau,  however,  I  had 
every  day  fresh  reason  to  wonder  at  the  wealth  of  his  varied 
knowledge.  There  were  few  subjects  on  which  he  had  not 
something  fresh  and  interesting  to  say.  Far  off  as  he  lived, 
he  was  well  acquainted  with  all  that  was  going  on — in  art,  or 
science,  or  literature,  or  politics.  But  his  information  by 
the  time  it  reached  him  was  reduced  to  the  limits  of  ascer- 
tained facts.  He  was  not  confused  with  the  perpetual  clatter 
of  other  people's  opinions.  Thus  what  he  said  was  his  own 
and  original.  He  had  his  hobbies  as  well  as  Mr.  Shandy,  and 
when  he  was  mounted  on  one  of  them  I  could  admire  his  rid- 
ing without  trying  to  keep  pace  with  him.  He  was  a  remark- 
able linguist,  among  his  other  accomplishments.  He  could 
speak  several  of  the  Polynesian  dialects,  and  he  insisted,  on 
philological  grounds,  that  most  of  the  islanders  of  the  South 
Pacific,  and  the  Maori  in  particular,  were  Japanese.  I  could 
not  contradict  his  arguments  ;  perhaps  I  was  too  ignorant  to 
appreciate  them.  I  was  obstinately  unconvinced,  however, 
that  between  the  small,  delicate  Japanese,  with  his  flat  Chinese 
features  and  tendencies  to  common  civilisation,  there  could  be 


312  Oceana. 

any  nearer  affinity  with  the  wild  manliness  of  the  large-boned 
New  Zealander  than  what  they  might  derive  from  Adam  or 
the  ancestral  ape.  But  one  can  learn  more  from  some  people 
when  they  are  wrong  than  from  most  others  when  they  happen 
to  be  right. 

On  the  federation  of  the  empire,  he  talked  with  a  fulness 
of  knowledge  which  left  nothing  to  be  desired,  and  with  the 
freedom  of  a  time  of  life  when  this  policy  or  that  is  no  longer 
connected  with  personal  interest  or  ambition.  He  was  an  ar- 
dent Englishman,  proud  of  his  country  and  eager  to  see  it 
continue  great  and  glorious,  and  its  future  strength  he  saw  as 
clearly  as  anyone  to  depend  on  whether  it  could  or  could  not 
maintain  the  attachment  of  the  colonies.  He  thought  that, 
if  wisely  handled,  things  might  remain  indefinitely  on  the 
present  footing,  the  existing  relations  becoming  stronger  by 
mere  force  of  custom.  He  said  that  no  one  in  the  colonies, 
except  a  few  doctrinaires,  ever  contemplated  separation  delib- 
erately and  in  cold  blood.  To  more  than  this  he  did  not  at 
present  look  forward — certainly  not  to  a  political  union  which 
would  bring  the  colonies  back  in  the  least  degree  under  the 
authority  of  the  British  Parliament.  He  did,  I  think,  contem- 
plate some  eventual,  far-off  league  between  the  members  of 
the  British  race  scattered  over  the  world,  for  mutual  defence 
and  assistance.  The  policy  of  kindred  he  believed  to  be  so 
strong  In  us  that,  in  some  form  or  other,  America  and  the  old 
home  would  again  draw  together,  and  the  colonies  would  be 
included  in  the  bond.  But  this  lay  visionary — extremely  vis- 
ionary— in  a  future  utterly  obscure  ;  and  for  my  own  part, 
though  I  have  heard  Americans  express  the  same  hope,  I 
believe  that  if  such  a  bond  were  ever  formed,  time,  which 
dissolves  all  things,  would  soon  dissolve  it  again.  Noth- 
ing abides  in  this  world  but  organic  life,  which  can  propa- 
gate itself  from  generation  to  generation.  Meanwhile,  and 
for  the  immediate  present,  Sir  George  deprecated,  as  strongly 


Federation.  313 

as  every  other  intelligent  person  with  whom  I  had  spoken 
did,  all  artificial  attempts  at  a  mechanical  union  between 
the  mother  country  and  her  own  dependencies.  The  affec- 
tion of  the  colonists  for  their  old  home  was  strong  enough 
to  resist  ordinary  trials  and  impatiences.  One  improvement 
only  he  suggested  which  would  lessen  the  friction.  Each  of 
the  self-governed  colonies,  he  thought,  might  have  a  represen- 
tative chosen  by  itself,  who  should  reside  in  London  as  her 
Majesty's  minister  for  that  colony,  all  business  between  the 
mother  country  and  such  colony  being  transacted  through 
him,  and  only  the  Secretary  of  State  in  Downing  Street  when 
Imperial  interests  were  involved.  He  would  not  have  such 
representatives  form  a  council  among  themselves.  He  ob- 
jected to  this  as  strongly  a,3  Mr.  Dalley  had  done.  He  did 
not  wish  them  to  have  seats,  with  or  without  votes,  in  the 
British  Parliament,  because  the  interference  of  Parliament 
was  the  special  thing  which  the  colonies  most  disliked.  It 
was  this  more  than  anything  else  which  had  led  to  so  much  evil 
at  the  Cape.  We  might  make  them  Privy  Councillors  if  we 
wished,  and  we  might  extend  the  same  distinction  to  other 
colonial  ministers  of  tried  capacity.  Hereditary  titles  were 
disliked  and  suspected  in  the  colonies.  The  title  of  Eight 
Honourable,  if  given  for  personal  merit  and  for  nothing  else, 
would  be  unobjectionable  and  would  be  appreciated. 

As  to  the  colonies  themselves,  responsible  government  as 
at  present  constituted  might  work  well,  he  thought,  in  some 
of  them,  but  did  not  answer  in  all,  and  did  not  answer  in 
New  Zealand.  He  spoke  cautiously,  but  he  evidently  thought 
New  Zealand  was  not  wisely  managed.  Debts  were  accumu- 
lated recklessly,  and  there  was  no  effective  control  over  the 
expenditure  of  money  so  easily  raised.  It  was  better  than 
direct  government  from  Downing  Street,  but  that  was  all 
that  could  be  said. 

Happily,  we  had  other  subjects  to  talk  about  besides  poli- 


314  Oceana. 

tics.  Lato  in  life,  and  when  the  sun  is  near  setting,  the 
horizon  clears,  and  the  eye  looks  out  into  the  great  beyond. 
Sir  George  was  not  only  a  serious  man,  but  he  was  a  religious 
man  in  the  conventional  sense.  There  were  the  signs  of  an 
evangelical  training  about  him.  He  said  grace  before  all 
meals,  not  only  before  dinner.  He  gathered  his  people  about 
him  every  day  for  'worship.'  He  had  the  evangelical  soft- 
ness of  speech,  and  used  phrases  which  are  seldom  heard 
from  men  who  have  been  largely  engaged  in  the  practical 
business  of  the  world.  His  mind  was  wide  open.  He  knew 
how  things  were  going  in  the  speculative  and  critical  depart- 
ments. But  at  his  age  he  did  not  care  to  distract  himself 
with  modern  theories.  Religion  was  to  him  the  sanctification 
of  the  ordinary  rules  of  duty,  and  the  acknowledgment  of  the 
dependence  of  the  creature  on  the  power  which  made  him. 
Duty  was  a  fact.  It  was  a  fact  that  we  had  not  made  our- 
selves. Some  form  or  other  under  which  these  supreme 
realities  could  be  recognised  was  indispensable  if  we  were 
not  to  forget  them,  and  the  forms  under  which  he  had  been 
taught  as  a  child  sufficed  for  him  now  in  his  age. 

The  influence  which  he  had  exerted  over  his  servants  and 
workmen  (perhaps  I  should  use  the  American  expression  and 
call  them  his  '  helps ')  was  really  remarkable.  He  had  once 
nineteen  men  in  his  employment  in  the  island.  There  were 
now  but  seven,  and  they  managed  everything — gardens, 
farms,  forests,  boats,  fisheries,  game.  Between  him  and  them, 
though  he  and  they  were  alike  republicans,  there  had  grown 
up  unconsciously  a  feudal  relationship,  and  they  seemed  to 
feel  that  they  belonged  to  one  another  for  life.  In  manners 
these  men  were  gentlemen ;  courteous,  manly,  deferential  to 
Sir  George,  for  whom  they  felt  as  the  sons  of  Ivor  felt  for 
Fergus  ;  but  with  him  and  everyone  frank,  open,  and  sincere  ; 
contradicting  him  if  necessary,  and  looking  boldly  in  his  face 
while  they  did  so. 


Notions  of  Liberty.  315 

There  was  a  small  cutter  in  the  harbour,  and  one  morning 
I  went  out  alone  with  the  head  boatman  for  a  sail.  He  de- 
scribed his  own  condition  as  one  in  which  he  had  nothing 
left  to  wish  for.  It  was  a  fine  thing,  he  said,  to  live  in  a  free 
country.  I  asked  him  what  he  meant  by  '  free  '  ;  was  it  that 
everyone  had  a  vote  in  sending  members  to  parliament  ?  He 
laughed.  He  had  a  vote  of  course,  but  it  had  never  occurred 
to  him  that  a  vote  had  anything  to  do  with  freedom.  He 
meant  a  country  where  he  could  go  where  he  pleased,  and  do 
what  he  pleased,  and  had  no  one  but  his  own  employer  to  in- 
terfere with  him.  The  parliament  did  no  good  that  he  knew 
of,  and  would  do  worse  if  Sir  George  did  not  keep  his  eye 
upon  it.  A  poor  man  could  not  get  land  in  New  Zealand. 
They  had  passed  an  Act  by  which  it  could  not  be  sold  in 
lots  of  less  than  twenty  acres.  In  the  surveys  each  forty 
acres  had  been  divided  into  unequal  portions.  The  rich  peo- 
ple, knowing  what  they  were  about,  bought  the  larger  section. 
A  poor  man  would  apply  for  the  smaller,  and  was  told  that 
there  had  been  an  error  in  the  survey.  He  could  not  have 
it  because  it  was  below  the  statutory  dimension,  and  the 
rich  had  the  use  of  the  whole,  when  they  had  paid  for  only 
half.  I  cannot  say  what  truth  there  may  have  been  in  this. 
Some  trick  or  other  was  perhaps  played,  for  the  complaint  of 
the  difficulty  in  obtaining  small  lots  of  land  was  universal. 
My  boatman  any  way  seemed  to  hold  pai'liament  so  extremely 
cheap  that  I  suggested  that  they  had  better  make  Sir  George 
king  ;  his  influence  would  thus  be  greater.  This  was  going 
too  far.  '  King ! '  he  said  ;  '  we  have  done  with  kings ;  we 
want  no  kings  here.'  '  Well,  then,  President/  I  said  ; 
'  President,  as  the  Americans  have.  The  name  is  of  no  con- 
sequence if  we  can  have  the  thing.'  This  satisfied  him  better. 
He  asked  me,  rather  wistfully,  if  England  would  be  likely  to 
allow  them  to  elect  their  president.  He  was  a  splendid- 
looking  young  fellow,  six  feet  high,  and  shaped  like  an 


316  Oceana. 

Apollo.  He  had  been  eight  years  with  Sir  George,  and  for 
four  he  had  never  left  the  island.  To  be  the  willing  de- 
pendant of  a  man  whom  he  could  look  up  to  and  admire,  was 
his  highest  conception  of  honour,  happiness,  and  liberty. 

Sir  George  was  proud  of  his  '  Barataria,'  and  liked  it  to 
be  seen.  On  certain  days  he  threw  open  house  and  grounds 
to  excursion  parties  from  Auckland.  A  steamer-full  would 
come.  They  took  possession  of  his  garden.  They  ran  freely 
about  his  rooms  and  staircases.  They  did  no  harm,  he  said. 
They  perhaps  learnt  a  little,  and  at  any  rate  enjoyed  them- 
selves. Indulgence  of  this  kind  was  prudent,  and  perhaps 
necessary.  There  might  be  some  jealousy,  he  said,  in  so  re- 
publican a  community,  if  he  was  tempted  by  his  love  of 
privacy  into  exclusiveness.  Auckland  is  a  yachting  place  ; 
the  young  clerks  and  merchants  keep  a  few  smart  cutters 
among  them  ;  and  now  and  then  a  party  would  sail  over  and 
ask  for  a  few  days'  shooting.  It  was  never  refused.  He  al- 
lowed one  buck  for  each  yacht,  but  he  added  sorrowfully, 
'  They  wound  more  than  they  kill.' 

There  was  no  inroad  of  this  kind  during  our  stay,  and  we 
wandered  about  in  solitude.  The  extraordinary  beauty  of 
the  place  struck  us  more  every  day.  No  landscape  gardener 
could  have  spread  his  plantations  with  better  art  than  Sir 
George.  Hillsides  and  valleys  are  clothed  with  pines  of  all 
varieties  ;  many  thousands  of  them  must  now  be  growing 
there,  eighty  and  a  hundred  feet  high,  all  raised  by  himself 
from  seed,  and  their  dark  forms  distinguish  the  island  among 
the  surrounding  groups.  Besides  the  pines  he  has  oak  and 
walnut,  maple  and  elm,  poplar,  ash,  and  acacia.  A  clump  of 
immense  cedars  stands  close  to  the  house,  and  round  the 
grounds  are  groves  of  magnolia  and  laurel  and  bay.  From 
the  Cape  he  had  brought  the  mimosa  and  the  Caffre-baum, 
and  the  whole  air  is  perfumed  with  orange-blossom  and 
citron  and  stephanotis.  His  special  pleasure  was  to  lead  us 


The  Island  Fauna.  317 

from  vantage  ground  to  vantage  ground,  where,  through 
glade  or  opening,  the  outside  landscape  was  let  in  ;  the  sea 
with  the  sparkling  blue  of  the  Mediterranean  ;  the  air  of  the 
pure  transparency  which  belongs  only  to  those  lower  lati- 
tudes ;  island  rising  behind  island,  and  ridge  beyond  ridge, 
till  in  the  far  distance  the  high  mountain  ranges  dissolved 
into  violet  clouds,  and  melted  away  and  were  gone.  Then 
he  would  take  us  into  the  bush,  amidst  the  untrimmed  negli- 
gence of  nature,  where  a  brood  of  wild  turkeys,  fearless  be- 
cause never  disturbed,  would  be  seen  perched  together  on 
the  branch  of  a  fallen  tree.  A  dreaming  stag  would  start  up 
amidst  the  fern  at  our  footsteps,  lift  his  antlered  head  and 
survey  us,  and  trot  away  into  the  forest.  There  were  wild 
boars  in  the  woods,  and  a  few  elk,  but  they  kept  in  the  jungle 
in  daytime,  and  we  saw  none  of  them.  Passing  a  deep  reed- 
bed  which  fringed  a  creek,  I  was  startled  by  a  roar  close  at  my 
ears.  Looking  round,  I  perceived  the  head  of  a  huge  black 
bull,  who  was  glaring  at  us  not  six  yards  off.  Sir  George 
was  undisturbed.  He  seemed  to  know  that  none  of  these 
creatures  would  molest  us.  All  living  things  of  earth  or  air 
were  on  confidential  terms  with  him.  The  great  New  Zea- 
land pigeons,  large  as  black-cocks,  fluttered  among  the  leaves 
above  our  heads,  spread  their  wings,  and  made  a  circuit  to 
show  their  shining  plumage,  then  settled  again  as  calmly  as 
they  might  have  settled  in  Adam's  garden  before  the  Fall.  It 
was  very  pretty — one  so  rarely  sees  the  natural  movements  of 
wild  birds.  They  know  man  only  as  their  enemy,  and  when 
they  get  a  sight  of  him  they  are  anxious  and  alarmed.  Sir 
George  understood  the  habits  of  them  all.  He  talked  about 
natural  history  as  easily  as  he  talked  of  every  thing  else — in  a 
genial,  soft,  deferential  tone,  his  blue  eyes  fixed  half  on  his 
listener  and  half  on  vacancy,  while  he  poured  out  information 
which  must  have  cost  him  years  of  study.  Singular  man !  I 
could  enter  now  into  the  feelings  with  which  he  was  regarded 


318  Oceana. 

in  every  part  of  the  world  where  he  had  played  a  part.  Even 
now,  at  the  eleventh  hour,  I  wish  the  Colonial  Office  would 
restore  him  to  the  Cape.  It  would  cost  him  his  life,  but  he 
would  cheerfully  sacrifice  the  few  years  that  may  be  left  to 
him,  part  with  Kawau  and  the  beauties  which  he  has  created 
there,  to  do  his  country  one  last  service.  In  these  walks  we 
had  an  opportunity  of  seeing  the  undergrowth  in  the  woods 
which  we  had  admired  at  a  distance  on  our  drive  to  the  lake. 
The  ferns  were  the  great  ornament ;  tree-ferns  fifty  feet  high, 
with  great  fronds  twenty-five  feet  long,  feathering  from  the 
crest ;  the  fern-palm,  with  leaves  yet  longer,  striking  spirally 
from  the  stem,  and  stretching  upwards  in  easy  arches ;  on 
the  ground,  besides  the  common  varieties,  a  kidney  fern, 
Avhich  was  new  to  me — curious,  if  not  otherwise  remarkable  ; 
and  climbling  fern,  which  crept  over  stick  and  stone,  hanging 
in  long  festoons  with  pale  green  fronds — transparent,  like  the 
Killarney  fern — the  most  perfectly  lovely  subject  for  imita- 
tion in  wood-carving  that  I  have  ever  met  with.  These  grew 
everywhere,  covering  the  whole  surface  ;  only  the  majestic 
Kauri  tolerated  no  approaches  to  his  dignity.  Under  his 
branches  all  was  bare  and  brown. 

We  made  one  delightful  expedition  into  the  interior. 
Starting,  like  Eobinson  Crusoe,  in  a  boat  for  the  extreme  end 
of  it,  we  picnicked  in  a  rocky  cove.  Sir  George  then  guided 
me  up  a  steep  hillside  through  a  dense  thicket  of  Ti-tree. 
We  emerged  on  the  brow,  upon  the  open  neck  of  a  long  pen- 
insula which  reached  out  into  the  ocean,  with  the  remains, 
now  overgrown,  of  a  grassy  track  which  once  ran  across  the 
island,  and  ended  at  the  house.  It  had  been  cut  and  cleared 
as  a  bridle-road,  and  Sir  George  used  in  past  years  to  take  his 
early  ride  there  with  a  favourite  niece.  Strange  that  in  these 
new  countries  one  should  already  have  to  witness  decay  and 
alteration  !  Sir  George  has  ceased  to  ride  ;  a  little  more 
and  his  island  and  he  will  be  parted  for  ever. 


T/ie  Maori  Dining- Hatt.  319 

For  age  will  rust  the  brightest  blade, 
And  time  will  break  th«  stoutest  bow ; 

Was  never  wight  so  starkly  made 
But  time  and  age  will  lay  him  low. 

We  turned  from  the  path  into  the  forest,  forcing  our  way 
with  difficulty  through  the  thicket.  Suddenly  we  came  on  a 
spot  where  three-quarters  of  an  acre,  or  an  acre,  stood  bare 
of  any  kind  of  undergrowth,  but  arched  over  by  the  inter- 
woven branches  of  four  or  five  gigantic  Pokutukama  trees, 
whose  trunks  stood  as  the  columns  of  a  natural  hall  or  temple. 
The  ground  was  dusty  and  hard,  without  trace  of  vegetation. 
The  roots  twisted  and  coiled  over  it  like  a  nest  of  knotted 
pythons,  while  other  pythons,  the  Rata  parasites,  wreathed 
themselves  round  the  vast  stems,  twined  up  among  the 
boughs,  and  disappeared  among  the  leaves.  It  was  like  the 
horrid  shade  of  some  Druid's  grove,  and  the  history  of  it  was 
as  ghastly  as  its  appearance.  Here,  at  the  beginning  of  this 
century,  the  Maori  pirates  of  the  island  had  held  their  festi- 
vals. To  this  place  they  had  brought  their  prisoners  ;  here 
they  had  slain  them  and  hung  their  carcases  on  these  branches 
to  be  cut  and  sliced  for  spit  or  caldron.  Here,  when  their 
own  turn  came,  they  had  made  their  last  bloody  stand  against 
the  axes  of  the  invaders,  and  had  been  killed  and  devoured 
in  turn.  I  could  fancy  that  I  saw  the  smoking  fires,  the  hid- 
eous preparations,  the  dusky  groups  of  savage  warriors.  I 
could  hear  the  shrieks  of  the  victims  echoing  through  the 
hollows  of  the  forest.  We  ourselves  picked  up  relics  of  the 
old  scenes,  stone  knives  and  chisels  and  axeheads,  forgotten 
when  all  was  over  and  the  island  was  left  to  desolation. 

Sir  George  was  a  perfect  host.  He  had  his  own  occupa- 
tions, and  he  left  us  often  to  amuse  ourselves  as  we  liked  : 
E making  sketches,  and  I  attempting  the  like  with  un- 
equal hand  and  at  distant  interval.  The  boats  and  boatmen 
were  at  our  disposition.  I,  as  an  old  sea-fisherman,  was 


320  Oceana. 

curious  to  see  the  varieties  of  fish  to  be  found  in  these  waters. 
The  men  promised  to  show  me  as  many  as  I  pleased  ;  and 
one  afternoon  we  sailed  two  or  three  miles  away  among  the 
islands,  brought  up  there,  and  sent  out  our  lines.  We  had 
caught  a  bream  or  two,  very  like  the  bream  of  the  Channel, 
when  we  found  the  lines  torn  out  of  our  hands,  and  tackle 
broken  to  pieces  by  some  monster  of  another  kind.  The 
men  knew  what  they  had  to  deal  with  ;  they  produced  lines 
like  colour  halyards,  hooks  such  as  you  would  hang  a  flitch 
of  bacon  on,  mounted  on  a  foot  of  chain  which  no  tooth 
could  cut  Half  a  mullet  made  the  bait,  and  instantly  that 
we  had  them  overboard  each  of  us  was  fast  in  a  shark — not 
sharks  of  the  largest  size,  but  man-eaters — six  or  seven  feet 
long  and  a  foot  in  diameter.  It  was  desperate  work ;  we 
dragged  the  creatures  by  brute  force  alongside,  where  our 
friends  stunned  them  with  heavy  clubs,  hauled  them  in  and 
flung  them  under  the  thwarts.  Two  hours  of  it  was  as 
much  as  we  were  equal  to ;  our  hands  were  cut  with  the 
lines  and  the  carnage  was  sickening.  In  that  time  we  had 
caught  twenty-nine,  running  from  forty  to  seventy  pounds 
weight.  An  archbishop,  once  killing  a  wasp  with  an  eager- 
ness which  some  one  present  thought  unbecoming,  defended 
himself  by  saying  that  it  was  part  of  the  battle  against  sin. 
Sharks  are  as  sinful  as  wasps  and  are  natural  enemies  besides. 
Their  livers  are  full  of  oil,  and  our  afternoon's  sport  was  worth 
three  or  four  pounds  to  the  men.  But  it  was  not  a  beautiful 
operation,  and  a  single  experience  was  enough. 

There  was  a  return  match  to  this  adventure  where  the 
sharks  were  near  having  an  innings.  I  was  still  anxious  to 
see  more  of  the  smaller  fish,  and  another  day,  after  luncheon, 
the  sky  threatening  nothing  but  a  calm,  I  and  my  son  started, 
with  a  single  hand,  in  a  dingy  about  sixteen  feet  long,  for  a 

second  trial.     E would  not  go.     There  were  only  three 

of  us,  and  three  was  as  many  as  such  a  boat  would  conven- 


A  Boat  Adventure.  321 

iently  hold.  A  soft  breeze  gently  rippled  the  water ;  we 
sailed  across  an  open  channel,  the  only  channel,  unluckily  for 
us,  which  was  exposed  to  the  ocean  swell.  We  anchored 
again  under  the  lee  of  some  rocks  which  were  covered  at 
high  tide.  We  worked  away  for  an  hour  or  two,  finding  no 
sharks,  but  finding  little  else.  The  afternoon  was  drawing 
on,  and  we  were  about  to  set  our  sail  and  return,  when  a 
singular-looking  cloud  formed  up  rapidly  to  seaward.  It 
looked  as  if  a  shower  were  coming,  and,  as  a  puff  of  wind 
might  come  with  it,  we  thought  it  better  to  stay  where  we 
were  till  it  was  over.  The  shower  did  not  come,  but  the 
squall  did,  and  instead  of  passing  off  as  we  expected,  it  grew 
into  a  gale,  every  moment  blowing  more  fiercely.  The  two 
miles  of  water  between  us  and  our  haven  were  a  sheet  of 
boiling  foam  ;  to  row  across  was  impossible.  To  try  to  cross 
close-hauled  under  sail,  as  from  the  wind's  direction  we 
should  be  obliged  to  do,  would  be  certain  destruction.  Our 
cockle-shell  would  have  filled  and  gone  down  with  the  first 
wave  we  met.  When  the  tide  rose  there  would  be  no  shelter 
where  we  were  lying.  There  was  an  island  under  our  lee  a 
quarter  of  a  mile  off,  about  an  acre  in  extent,  not  more.  The 
mainland  was  five  miles  off.  We  waited,  hoping  that  a  storm 
which  had  come  so  suddenly  would  drop  as  it  had  risen ;  but 
drop  it  would  not,  and  the  sea  grew  wilder  and  Avilder,  and 
it  was  now  growing  dusk.  The  boatman  said  that  we  had 
two  courses  before  us  :  we  might  drop  behind  the  little 
island,  and  he  there  for  the  night.  We  could  not  land  upon 
it ;  the  waves  were  washing  too  heavily  all  round  ;  but  the 
rocks  would  keep  off  the  wind,  and  the  boat  would  ride  safeb', 
unless  the  wind  changed.  We  had  neither  coats  nor  rugs, 
and  the  prospect  of  being  rocked  about  all  night  in  an  open 
cradle  in  a  storm  was  in  itself  unpleasant,  while  if  the  wind 
shifted  there  would  be  an  end  of  us.  The  alternative  was  to 
run  for  the  mainland.  Though  we  could  not  cross  the  seas 
21 


322  Oceana. 

we  might  run  before  them.  I  asked  if  there  was  a  harbour. 
There  was  no  harbour,  but  there  was  a  long  sloping,  sandy 
shore.  Our  boat  drew  but  a  few  inches  of  water.  The  large 
waves  would  break  some  way  out.  If  we  escaped  swamping 
in  the  outer  line  of  breakers,  we  should  then  be  in  compara- 
tively smooth  water  and  would  drive  on  till  we  could  walk 
ashore. 

There  was  a  farmhouse  where  we  could  sleep,  if  we  could 
succeed  in  getting  on  land  at  all.  Between  these  two  coui'ses 
I  was  to  choose  and  to  choose  quickly,  for  night  was  coming 
on.  We  could  not  stay  where  we  were,  and  in  twenty  minutes 
the  land  would  be  invisible.  I  decided  to  run.  We  set  the 
foresail,  a  mere  rag  ;  our  attendant,  who  was  as  cool  as  if  he 
had  been  standing  on  Sir  George's  pier,  sate  forward  to  hold 
the  sheet  in  his  hands.  I  took  the  helm,  fixed  my  eyes  on 
the  point  which  we  were  to  make  for,  and  we  shot  away  over 
the  crests  of  the  boiling  sea.  The  danger  was  that  a  follow- 
ing wave  might  strike  our  stern  and  fill  us,  but  the  boat  was 
buoyant  and  flew  through  the  foam.  The  waves  in  our  wake 
looked  ugly,  curling  over  and  rushing  after  us.  My  compan- 
ions saw  them.  I  had  my  work  to  attend  to  and  looked 
straight  forward.  Nothing  hurt  us.  The  danger  was  not  so 
great  as  it  seemed  so  long  as  we  managed  our  boat  properly. 
It  grew  dark,  but  there  were  lights  in  the  farmhouse  window 
which  served  to  steer  by.  Our  hearts  beat  a  little  when  we 
came  up  to  the  breakers,  but  there  was  no  help  for  it.  We 
could  only  go  at  them,  and  we  dashed  through  on  the  burst- 
ing crest  of  a  big  roller. 

In  another  minute  we  were  running  quietly  through  smooth 
and  shallowing  water.  We  took  off  shoes  and  stockings, 
stepped  overboard  and  dragged  our  boat  ashore. 

Two  tall,  athletic  young  men  came  down  over  the  beach 
to  help  us.  They  had  seen  us  coming,  knew  what  must  have 
happened,  and  guessed  where  we  came  from.  To  be  friends 


A  New  Zealand  Farmhouse.  323 

of  Sir  George  Grey  was  to  be  sure  of  help  and  hospitality  at 
every  house  on  the  coast  of  the  North  Island.  They  told  us 
that  their  mother  would  make  us  welcome  ;  and  thus  what 
might  have  been  a  misadventure  of  a  serious  kind  ended  in 
giving  me  an  opportunity  of  seeing  a  new  side  of  English  life 
in  New  Zealand. 

The  tide  was  low  when  we  landed.  The  sands  were  set 
with  oyster- shells,  a  good  many  of  them  placed  edgeways. 
We  were  barefooted,  and  it  was  so  dark  that  we  could  not  see 
where  we  were  stepping,  so  that  I  have  a  lively  recollection 
of  the  three  hundred  yards  which  we  had  to  walk  before  we 
reached  the  house. 

It  was  a  substantial  wooden  mansion,  with  big  trees  about 
it,  a  verandah  and  garden  in  front,  and  a  large  back-yard 
with  various  outhouses.  Hills  covered  with  forest  rose  darkly 
behind  and  on  either  side.  I  could  see  little  more,  as  the 
light  was  almost  gone,  but  in  the  morning,  when  I  could  look 
about  me,  I  found  that  between  these  hills  and  reaching  up 
to  the  farm  station,  there  was  a  fair  expanse  of  rich  level  land, 
part  under  the  plough,  part  in  meadow,  with  herds  of  cattle 
feeding  on  it.  A  river  ran  down  through  the  middle  of  the 
valley,  forming  a  lagoon  before  it  reached  the  sea,  the  banks 
of  which  were  littered  with  the  skeletons  of  rotting  trees. 

Our  conductor  led  us  to  the  door,  took  us  in,  and  intro- 
duced us.  I  could  have  fancied  myself  in  a  Boer's  house  iii 
South  Africa.  The  passage  opened  into  a  large  central  apart- 
ment with  open  roof  and  strong  and  solid  rafters,  which 
served  as  hall,  kitchen,  and  dining-room.  A  large  wood  fire 
was  burning  in  the  grate,  which  had  an  oven  and  fire-plate 
attached  to  it.  The  walls  shone  with  pots,  pans,  dishes,  plates, 
all  clean  and  shining.  There  was  a  settle,  a  sofa  or  two,  some 
strong  chairs,  and  a  long  table  with  a  fixed  seat  at  the  end 
for  the  head  of  the  family.  Doors  opened  into  bedrooms, 
which  were  chiefly  on  the  ground  floor.  In  front,  where  the 


324  Oceana. 

verandah  was,  there  were  best  rooms,  reserved  for  company 
and  state  occasions,  but  the  life  of  the  establishment  was  in 
the  hall-kitchen  which  we  first  entered.  The  owner  was  a 
matron  of  about  sixty,  a  good-natured  but  energetic,  authori- 
tative woman,  who  had  once  been  a  servant,  had  married  a 
Portuguese,  and  had  been  left  a  widow  with  three  sons  and 
two  daughters.  Something,  a  very  little,  had  been  secured 
to  her  as  a  provision.  She  had  pui-chased  a  small  farm  at  this 
place  when  land  was  more  easy  to  be  had  than  at  present. 
She  had  thriven  upon  it,  she  had  added  to  it,  and  had  now 
500  acres  of  her  own — the  richest  parts  reclaimed  and  the 
rest  in  primitive  forest.  Her  farm  stock  was  worth  1,500^., 
and  she  also  owned  houses  in  Auckland,  besides  money  out 
at  interest.  Her  eldest  son  had  married  and  gone  from  her, 
and  so  had  one  daughter.  She  was  now  living  alone  with  the 
remaining  daughter  and  the  two  younger  sons  whom  I  had 
seen.  She  had  no  servant,  and  they  did  the  entire  work  of 
the  house  and  the  farm  between  them.  The  young  men  cut 
the  timber,  ploughed,  dug,  fenced,  and  took  care  of  the  cattle. 
Mother  and  daughter  kept  all  in  order  within  doors,  cooked 
the  food,  washed,  made,  and  mended  the  clothes,  &c.,  all  in  a 
notable  way.  As  there  were  rooms  to  spare,  and  as  any  pos- 
sible addition  to  the  income  was  not  to  be  neglected,  summer 
lodgers  from  Auckland  were  occasionally  taken  in  for  sea- 
bathing. This  was  the  explanation  of  a  ladylike  young  woman 
whom  we  found  there  with  two  or  three  children,  evidently 
not  members  of  the  family. 

We  all  had  supper  together,  consisting  of  tinned  meat, 
bread,  and  tea — rough  but  good  and  wholesome.  The  sons 
and  Sir  George's  man  went  out  afterwards  to  see  after  the 
boat,  which  we  had  left  moored  on  the  sands.  They  returned 
after  half-an-hour  to  say  that  the  night  was  so  dark  that  they 
could  see  nothing,  and  the  wind  and  sea  so  furious  that  they 
could  scarcely  approach  the  beach.  They  had  not  found  the 


A  New  Zealand  Farmhouse.  325 

boat  nor  any  traces  of  it,  and  concluded  that  it  bad  gone  to 
pieces. 

There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  go  to  bed  and  to  sleep, 
which  we  succeeded  in  doing,  the  beds  being  as  clean  as  care 
could  make  them.  Our  principal  anxiety  was  for  Sir  George, 
who  we  knew  must  be  alarmed,  but  we  could  not  consider 
ourselves  to  blame.  It  had  been  a  misfortune  and  nobody's 
fault.  He  would  have  seen  the  storm  come  on,  and  would 
conjecture  what  must  have  become  of  us.  The  tempest  roared 
on  through  the  night.  Looking  out  in  the  morning,  we  saw 
«a  wild  scene'  of  driving  sand  and  foam,  but  through  it  all,  at 
any  rate,  we  beheld  our  little  boat  riding  safely  where  we  had 
left  her.  The  tide  had  risen.  Buoyant  as  a  cork,  she  had 
floated  dry  in  breakers  where  a  stouter  vessel  would  have 
been  swamped  and  wrecked. 

We  saw  that  we  had  means  of  getting  home  again  when 
the  weather  would  let  us,  and  our  worst  care  was  removed. 
We  breakfasted  as  we  had  supped,  the  whole  party  sitting 
round  the  table.  The  mother  presided,  decently  saying  grace. 
We  walked  afterwards  round  the  farm,  saw  the  cattle  and 
crops,  saw  the  young  men  cutting  Ti-bush,  and  carting  it  to 
the  sea  to  be  shipped  for  Auckland.  Two  young  ladies  can- 
tered up  on  their  ponies  from  some  adjoining  station  for  a 
morning  call.  It  was  all  very  pretty — a  quiet  home  of  peace- 
ful and  successful  industry,  far  pleasanter  for  one  to  look  at 
than  the  high  wages  and  -hot-pressed  pleasures  of  the  large 
towns.  One  day  there  will  be  homesteads  such  as  this  all 
over  New  Zealand,  when  the  municipalities  can  borrow  no 
more  and  the  labourers  must  disperse  or  starve. 

At  midday  the  wind  lulled ;  the  sea  dropped  ;  and  we 
could  take  our  leave.  Our  good  landlady  charged  me  and 
my  son  four  shillings  each  for  two  suppers,  two  breakfasts, 
and  two  faultless  beds.  Sir  George's  boatman  had  been  en- 
tertained as  a  friend,  and  for  him  nothing  was  to  be  paid  at 


326  Oceana. 

all.  All  the  virtues  seemed  to  thrive  in  that  primitive  estab 
lishment.  The  good  people  could  hardly  have  been  paid  the 
cost  of  what  we  consumed.  I  was  glad  and  proud  to  have 
made  acquaintance  with  a  family  whom  I  counted  as  one  of 
the  healthiest  that  I  had  met  with  in  all  my  travels.  "We 
started  home,  and  our  stout  little  barque  rattled  through  the 
water  and  worked  to  windward  as  if  proud  of  what  she  had 
gone  through.  Half-way  back  we  were  met  by  a  steamer, 
which  had  gone  iuto  Kawau  for  shelter  from  the  gale,  and 
had  been  dispatched  by  Sir  George  to  look  for  us.  He  had 
been  more  uneasy  than  his  consideration  for  us  would  allow 
him  to  acknowledge. 

This  was  the  last  day  of  our  visit.  The  week  which  we  had 
passed  at  Kawau  was  one  of  the  most  interesting  which  I  re- 
member in  my  life,  and  our  host  certainly  was  one  of  the 
most  remarkable  men.  It  is  sad  to  think  that  in  all  human 
likelihood  I  shall  never  see  Sir  George  Grey  again.  When 
he  dies,  the  Maories  and  the  poor  whites  in  New  Zealand  will 
have  lost  their  truest  friend,  and  England  will  have  lost  a 
public  servant,  among  the  best  that  she  ever  had,  whose  worth 
she  failed  to  understand. 

In  another  week  the  '  Australia,'  sister-ship  to  the  '  City  of 
Sydney,'  would  call  for  us  at  Auckland.  My  purpose  was  to 
return  by  San  Francisco  and  the  United  States.  Sir  James 
Harrington  had  seen  in  prophecy  the  English  race  dispersed 
ever  the  whole  globe.  The  greatest  of  all  its  branches— in 
its  own  opinion  no  branch  any  longer,  but  the  main  trunk  of 
the  tree — was,  of  course,  America  ;  and  it  would  be  interest- 
ing to  contrast  and  compare  what  the  '  plantations '  of  Har- 
rington's time  had  grown  into,  and  of  which  he  was  chiefly 
thinking  when  he  wrote  his  Oceaua,  with  the  '  Oceanic '  plan- 
ets which  still  revolve  around  the  English  primary.  There 
was  not  time  left  for  further  distant  expeditions.  There 
were  several  able  and  superior  men  in  Auckland  whose  opin- 


Auckland  Again.  327 

ions  about  many  things  I  was  anxious  to  learn.  There  was 
Professor  Aldis  and  his  wife,  who  were  of  the  elect  of  cul- 
tivated man  and  womankind.  So  we  arranged  to  remain  at 
the  club  there  till  the  steamer  arrived.  Everybody  was  good 
and  hospitable  to  us,  and  tried  to  make  our  time  pass  pleas- 
antly. The  bishop  showed  us  at  leisure  Selwyn's  house  and 
library  ;  the  trees  now  surrounding  the  palace  which  he  had 
himself  planted  ;  the  genius  of  him  still  traceable  in  the 
rooms  and  the  bookcases  and  the  furniture.  Selwyn's  appoint- 
ment to  New  Zealand  had  been  a  notable  thing  in  its  day. 
Colonial  bishops  going  among  savages  were  less  common 
than  they  are  now.  We  had  laughed  over  Sydney  Smith's 
cold  missionary  on  the  sideboard,  with  which  the  chiefs  were 
to  entertain  him.  He  was  an  athlete,  and  we  had  heard  of 
him  as  swimming  rivers  with  his  chaplain  when  out  on  visita- 
tion, &c.  He  was  the  first,  and  much  the  best,  of  the  mus- 
cular Christians,  who  at  one  time  were  to  have  been  the 
saviours  of  society.  His  name  was  connected  for  ever  with 
the  history  of  English  New  Zealand,  and  we  looked  respect- 
fully on  the  traces  which  remained  of  his  presence. 

Social  duties  fell  on  us  of  the  usual  kind.  We  dined  with 
Auckland  merchants,  one  of  them  with  a  mansion  and  estab- 
lishment on  the  scale  of  Sydney,  and  for  his  lady  an  artist  of 
high  accomplishments.  Dinner-parties  sadly  resemble  one 
another.  Colonial  society  is  too  imitative  of  home  manners, 
and  would  be  livelier  if  it  ventured  on  originality  ;  but  no 
strangers  anywhere  could  have  been  received  with  more  kind- 
ness or  with  more  desire  to  do  the  best  they  could  for  us. 
The  Aldis's  kept  their  word  and  called  on  us,  and  invited  us 
to  their  home  under  Mount  Eden.  The  situation  of  their 
residence,  save  for  the  purity  of  sky  and  air,  reminded  me  of 
suburban  houses  in  our  own  Black  Country,  for  the  roads  and 
walks  were  made  with  cinder  and  slag,  and  the  rockwork  of 
their  garden  was  composed  of  masses  of  lava  which  had  been 


328  Oceana. 

vomited  from  the  crater  overhead.  But  Mount  Eden  was  now 
sleeping  ;  the  rocks  were  overgrown  with  mesembryaiithemum, 
and  beds  of  violets  were  springing  up  between  them,  and 
though  it  was  a  strange  place  in  which  to  find  the  most  brill- 
iant mathematician  that  Cambridge  has  produced  for  half  a 
ceniury,  he  and  his  wife  contrived  to  find  life  pass  pleasantly 
there.  Nay,  they  looked  back  on  Newcastle,  where  they  had 
spent  their  first  years  after  leaving  the  university,  as  in  com- 
parison a  sort  of  Tartarus,  an  abode  of  damned  souls.  The 
professor  went  daily  into  the  town  for  his  duties  at  the  col- 
lege, and  he  had  pupils,  he  told  me,  of  real  promise,  quite  as 
likely  to  distinguish  themselves  as  any  that  he  had  taught  at 
home.  Indeed,  he  spoke  very  well  of  the  rising  generation  of 
colonials.  At  a  university  and  among  students  anxious  to 
learn,  he  was  likely  to  see  the  most  favourable  specimens,  but 
I  took  his  testimony  as  a  welcome  corrective  to  the  denuncia- 
tions which  I  had  heard  elsewhere,  so  generally,  from  their 
elders.  Sons  cannot  always  be  the  exact  copies  of  their 
fathers,  and  their  fathers  are  a  little  too  ready  to  mistake 
difference  for  inferiority. 

A  practical  difficulty  in  colonial  life  is  to  find  good  servants. 
Sir  George  Grey's  people  were  an  exception.  They  were  like 
feudal  lieges.  But  the  best  emigrants  prefer  independence  ; 
and  ladies  and  gentlemen,  after  suffering  for  a  year  to  two 
under  the  inflictions  of  bad  domestics,  learn  to  do  without  and 
manage  for  themselves.  Professor  and  Mrs.  Aldis  had  one 
girl  to  help  them  in  the  house,  and  a  poor  creature  of  a  man, 
fit  only  for  the  lightest  work,  to  keep  the  garden  and  look 
after  a  pony  and  pony-carriage.  So  living  they  described 
themselves  as  perfectly  happy.  Our  English  universities  de- 
serve the  gratitude  of  Victoria  and  New  Zealand.  They  gave 
away  Martin  Irving  to  one  ;  they  gave  Professor  Aldis  to  the 
other ;  perhaps,  however,  without  entire  consciousness  of  the 
worth  of  what  they  were  parting  with.  Had  Mr.  Aldis  been 


Auckland  Politicians.  329 

a  clergyman  of  the  Established  Church,  he  might  have  risen 
to  an  archbishopric.  There  was  no  distinction  which  he  might 
not  have  claimed,  or  for  which  the  completeness  of  his  Chris- 
tian belief  would  not  have  qualified  him.  But  in  his  own 
judgment,  which  was  probably  as  excellent  on  this  point  as 
on  others,  he  was  better  as  he  was.  In  his  house  there  was 
no  gossip,  political  or  personal.  Of  politics  he  kept  prudently 
clear,  as  no  business  of  his.  But  he  talked,  and  talked  ad- 
mirably, on  all  subjects  of  enduring  interest,  with  the  clear- 
ness of  scientific  knowledge,  and  the  good  sense  which  it  is 
so  pleasant  to  listen  to. 

On  the  topics  of  the  clay,  on  the  state  of  the  colony,  on  the 
working  of  responsible  government,  the  relations  with  the 
mother  country,  &c.,  I  found  many  persons  willing  and  even 
eager  to  give  us  their  opinions.  A  few  things  that  were  said 
to  me  are  characteristic  and  worth  preserving.  I  avoid 
names,  as  I  wish  only  to  give  the  notions  which  are  floating 
in  the  air. 

There  was  considerable  unanimity  about  the  existing  form 
of  government  in  New  Zealand.  No  one  defended  it.  Two 
Houses  with  paid  members  were  allowed  to  do  their  work  as 
ill  as  possible,  and  to  be  an  expensive  instrument  for  political 
corruption  and  jobbery.  Those  who  were  in  favour  of  the 
maintenance  of  the  English  connection,  and  those  who  were 
against  it,  held  the  same  language,  though  they  differed 
much  as  to  what  they  would  prefer  in  exchange.  One  gentle- 
man amused  me  considerably  with  his  views.  He  expressed 
the  greatest  loyalty  to  England,  which  he  declared  to  be  the 
universal  feeling  of  the  whole  colony  ;  but  it  was  a  loyalty 
which  implied  that  we  were  to  continue  to  do  everything  for 
them — protect  their  coasts,  lend  them  money  as  long  as  they 
wanted  it,  and  allow  them  to  elect  a  governor  who  should  be 
entirely  independent  of  us.  He  repudiated  all  forms  of  con- 
federation, would  not  hear  of  a  political  association  with  the 


330  Oceana. 

rest  of  the  empire,  rejected  with  scorn  Mr.  Dalley's  notion 
that  the  colonies  should  contribute  to  the  expenses  of  the 
navy.  A  navy,  of  course,  was  needed,  but  we  were  to  bear 
the  whole  expense — every  part  of  it.  Let  us  do  all  this 
cheerfully  and  then  we  should  see  how  attached  they  would 
be  to  us.  He  did  not,  indeed,  promise  that  the  interest  on 
the  money  with  which  we  were  to  provide  them  would  con- 
tinue to  be  paid.  It  was  impossible  for  them,  he  said,  to  pay 
by  taxation  the  interest  on  the  debt  as  it  stood.  They  would 
pay  as  long  as  they  could  borrow  ;  and  he  seemed  to  think 
that  this  ought  to  be  sufficient,  and  that  we  could  not  expect 
them  to  do  more.  It  was  a  maxim  of  politics  that  no  one 
was  bound  by  engagements  which  he  could  not  fulfil.  He 
assured  me  that  at  the  present  time  the  interest  was  paid  out 
of  the  loans,  although  the  Treasury  accounts  represented  it 
as  paid  out  of  revenue.  I  told  him  that,  if  this  was  so,  it 
was  the  business  of  him,  and  of  those  who  agreed  with  him, 
to  bring  the  truth  to  light  and  to  put  a  stop  to  the  borrow- 
ing. Repudiation  would  have  serious  consequences.  But 
he  seemed  to  think  that  to  cease  to  borrow  and  to  repudiate 
would  go  together,  nor  could  I  make  him  see  that  after  all 
the  consequences  to  them  would  be  serious  at  all.  We  should 
lose  our  money  ;  but  they  would  have  paid  us  if  they  could. 
His  coolness  took  my  breath  away.  He  did  add,  at  last,  that 
there  was  one  resource  between  them  and  bankruptcy. 
There  was  the  Native  Reserve.  It  was  the  richest  land  in 
the  islands,  and,  if  necessary,  could  be  entered  upon  and 
sold.  The  English  creditor  will  scarcely  be  satisfied  with 
such  a  return  of  ways  and  means. 

The  conversation  of  so  random  ::,  gentleman  would  not  have 
been  worth  recording  on  its  own  account,  but  it  is  true  that 
the  rapid  increase  of  New  Zealand  indebtedness  is  causing 
grave  anxiety  to  persons  of  greater  consideration.  The  debt, 
they  told  me,  was  out  of  all  proportion  to  so  small  a  commu- 


The  New  Zealand  Debt.  331 

nity,  and  though  it  might  appear  on  the  surface  that  the  trade 
of  the  colony  was  increasing  along  with  it,  yet  part  at  least 
of  the  seeming  prosperity  was  due  to  the  expenditure  of  the 
loans  themselves,  and  to  the  customs'  duties  on  the  goods 
which  the  high  wages,  as  long  as  they  last,  enabled  the  work- 
men to  buy.  The  land,  in  the  North  Island  at  least,  was  not 
being  developed  as  it  is  in  Australia.  It  was  falling  into  the 
hands  of  speculators.  It  was  being  bought  over  the  heads  of 
the  poor  by  successful  men  of  business,  who,  when  the  pres- 
sure came,  were  dreaming  of  reproducing  the  old  division  of 
a  landed  aristocracy  with  tenants  and  labourers  under  them. 
A  landed  aristocracy  growing  of  itself  might  be  a  necessary 
and  useful  institution.  A  landed  aristocracy  created  by  legis- 
lative mano3vring  could  be  nothing  but  an  evil.  So  serious 
appeared  the  peril  to  those  who  had  courage  to  look  forward, 
that  there  was  already  an  agitation  for  a  land  tax.  If  the 
debt  was  not  to  be  repudiated  (which,  at  least  for  the  present, 
no  rational  person  contemplated),  taxation  was  inevitable 
sooner  or  later.  It  was  only  postponed  by  borrowing,  and  as 
it  was  certain  that  the  workmen  would  not  tax  themselves  or 
their  own  favourite  commodities,  a  land  tax,  and  a  heavy  one, 
was  the  form  which  it  was  likely  to  assume. 

No  one  would  regret  a  land  tax  who  is  a  real  friend  to  New 
Zealand,  but  one  does  and  must  regret  the  extravagance 
which  may  make  it  necessary,  and  may  overload  for  many 
years  the  energies  of  the  colony.  I  was  in  an  office  one  day 
on  money  business.  The  member  of  the  firm  with  whom  I 
was  engaged,  alluded,  when  our  own  affair  was  disposed  of, 
to  the  new  loan  which  had  just  been  taken  up  in  the  English 
market,  and  expressed  his  surprise  that  the  London  capitalists 
were  willing  to  lend  so  largely,  and  on  such  easy  terms,  to  so 
small  a  community.  What  could  they  expect  ?  I  said  that 
the  accounts  were  published.  The  money  was  represented  as 
being  spent  on  railways  or  on  public  works  sure  to  be  repro- 


332  Oceana. 

ductive.  This  was  a  sufficient  security.  He  looked  at  me 
ambiguously.  '  Thirty-two  millions,'  he  said,  '  is  a  large  debt 
for  half  a  million  people,  and  perhaps  you  do  not  know  that 
the  municipal  debts  are,  at  least,  as  much  more  as  the  national 
debt.  No  doubt  the  money  goes  upon  works  of  some  kind, 
and  some  of  the  railways  may  pay  their  expenses  ;  but  as  to 
a  reproductiveness,  within  any  reasonable  period,  in  the  least 
corresponding  to  the  cost,  there  may  be  some  uncertainty.' 
However,  he  said,  it  was  our  own  affair,  and  as  long  as  we 
were  ready  to  lend,  they  would  not  cease  to  borrow. 

Uncomfortable  impressions  of  this  kind  do  exist  among 
persons  on  the  spot  who  have  means  of  forming  independent 
opinions.  I  do  not  pretend  that  they  are  well-founded.  Sir 
Julius  Vogel,  or  the  agent-general  in  London,  may  have  a  sat- 
isfactory reply  to  all  unfavourable  criticisms  ;  but  when  an 
alarm  is  widely  felt,  and  is  whispered  under  breath  in  so 
many  quarters,  it  would  be  well  if  it  could  be  set  at  rest  by 
clear  statements  which  cannot  be  accused  of  ambiguity.  The 
anxiety  may  be  groundless,  but  it  is  not  unnatural.  A  few 
plain  words  will  quiet  the  minds  of  many  worthy  New  Zea- 
landers  who  are  uneasy  for  the  honour  of  their  island. 

The  South  Island  was  still  unvisited,  and  Lyttelton  and 
Wellington  and  Christchurch  and  Dunedin  and  the  Fiords 
and  the  Glaciers  and  the  Giant  Mountains.  But  no  great  va- 
riety was  likely  as  yet  to  have  established  itself  among  the 
colonists.  The  type  of  character,  the  set  of  opinions,  was 
probably  the  same,  and  in  the  pattern  of  the  cloth  you  see  the 
texture  of  the  piece.  It  was  better  to  see  a  few  men  deliber- 
ately, than  the  outsides  of  many,  and  as  far  as  they  were  con- 
cerned, I  did  not  feel  that  a  wider  acquaintance,  however 
pleasant,  would  have  been  of  any  material  advantage  to  me. 
Of  the  country — so  varied,  so  remarkable,  the  future  home, 
as  I  believe  it  to  be,  of  the  greatest  nation  in  the  Pacific — of 
that  I  would  gladly  have  seen  more,  and  would  have  stayed 


War  JRumours.  333 

longer,  had  other  conditions  permitted.  But  the  fast-thick- 
ening war  rumours  had  established  a  homeward  current  for 
all  wandering  Englishmen,  and  we,  like  the  rest,  were  swept 
along  by  the  stream.  It  was  not  that  we  could  affect  the 
issues  of  things,  or  dreamt  that  we  could,  but  there  was  not 
one  of  us  whose  domestic  life  would  not  be  influenced  in  one 
way  or  another  by  war  if  it  came,  and  we  were  too  restless  to 
be  any  longer  amused  or  interested  by  other  things.  To  me 
it  was  all  inexplicable.  I  could  understand  the  eagerness  of 
the  army,  for  they  wanted  employment.  I  could  understand 
•that  the  ministers  might  be  driven  against  their  judgment 
into  doing  anything  which  the  people  clamoured  for — minis- 
ters, on  both  sides,  having  ceased  to  regard  themselves  as 
more  than  the  instruments  of  the  people's  wishes.  It  was 
true  that  they  were  Radicals,  and  that  the  Radicals,  till  their 
turn  of  power  came,  had  professed  to  hate  war  ;  that  they  had 
denounced  Lord  Beaconsfield,  and  turned  him  out  of  office, 
for  the  jingoism  which  they  were  now  adopting.  But  after 
we  had  seen  them  reddening  the  sands  of  Africa  with  the 
blood  of  tens  of  thousands  of  poor  creatures  who  had  been 
killed  without  a  scruple  to  escape  an  adverse  vote  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  one  could  not  deny  that  even  they,  or  at 
least  the  politicians  among  them,  might  be  willing,  for  the 
same  object,  to  kill  as  many  more  in  Asia. 

But  why  were  the  people  themselves  so  eager?  Not  one 
in  a  thousand  of  them  could  pretend  that  he  had  studied  the 
question,  and  was  satisfied  that  only  a  war  could  save  our 
Indian  Empire.  Danger  to  the  empire  might  be  the  excuse  ; 
it  could  not  be  the  motive.  I  began  to  think  that  Lord  — 
must  have  been  right  when  he  said  to  me  :  '  The  reason  why 
the  English  wish  to  fight  Russia  is  that  they  enjoy  fighting, 
and  Russia  is  the  only  one  of  the  Great  Powers  with  whom 
they  could  fight  with  the  slightest  hope  of  a  favourable  result' 
Prudent  persons,  before  they  undertake  any  important  enter- 


334  Oceana. 

prise,  balance  the  result  to  be  gained  with  the  cost  of  gaining 
it  A  war  set  going  with  Russia  under  the  existing  conditions 
would  continue  either  till  Russia  was  exhausted  and  fell  to 
pieces  in  revolution,  or,  if  we  were  the  unsuccessful  party — 
as  it  was  at  least  possible  that  we  might  be — till  there  was 
another  rebellion  in  India.  Either  alternative  promised  incal- 
culable misery  to  millions  of  the  human  race ;  yet  we,  who 
could  not  manage  our  own  South  Africa,  who  were  letting 
Ireland  slip  from  us,  as  wanting  strength  or  wanting  courage 
to  hold  it,  were  preparing  with  a  light  heart  to  carry  fire  and 
sword  into  the  ends  of  the  earth. 

Russia,  we  were  told,  was  extending  her  conquests  in  Cen- 
tral Asia.  Had  we  made  no  conquests  in  Asia  ?  Russia's 
Asiatic  subjects,  counted  altogether,  do  not  exceed  thirty  mill- 
ions. The  Empress  of  India  has  two  hundred  and  fifty  mill- 
ions. Russia  was  attacking  the  Afghans.  Had  ice  never  at- 
tacked the  Afghans  ?  Russia  was  a  danger  to  the  Indian  Em- 
pire. She  might  encourage  disaffection  there,  and  if  she  could 
she  would.  How  could  we  know  that  she  would  ?  and  if  she 
did,  might  she  not  plead  our  own  example  :  only  seven  years 
ago  we  had  formed  a  deliberate  plan  to  stir  up  a  revolt  in  Turki- 
stan.  We  satisfy  ourselves  that  when  we  do  these  things  it 
is  for  the  good  of  mankind,  but  that  when  others  do  them  it 
is  wicked  and  not  to  be  permitted.  Such  a  plea  as  this  will 
hardly  pass  current  in  the  intercourse  of  nations.  For  myself, 
I  thought  that  the  war  now  so  clamoured  for  would  be  a 
wicked  war,  and  I  clung  to  my  conviction  that  our  better 
genius  would  somehow  keep  us  out  of  it.  The  greatest  fool 
in  the  House  of  Commons,  if  left  to  himself  and  to  his  own 
small  understanding,  would  steer  the  ship  of  the  State  better 
than  the  galaxy  of  genius  had  done  which  formed  Mr.  Glad- 
stone's Administration  ;  but  even  they,  I  trusted,  would  still 
keep  us  clear  of  this  fresh  disaster. 

In  leaving  New  Zealand  we  should   be  leaving  the  tele- 


Parties  at  Home,  335 

graph.  We  could  hear  nothing  more  till  we  reached  the  Sand- 
wich Islands,  or  probably  till  we  reached  San  Francisco  ;  and 
I  looked  forward  with  real  satisfaction  to  the  month  of 
quiet  which  lay  before  us,  Avhen  we  should  be  no  more  dis- 
tracted by  the  broken  patches  of  news  which  had  been  drop- 
ping in  upon  us  from  hour  to  hour.  E ,  who  was  going 

home  with  us,  shared  none  of  my  feelings.  He,  a  high  Scotch 
Tory,  hated  the  Russians  with  genuine  party  vigour.  Why 
the  Tories  should  hate  Russia,  which  alone  maintains  in  Europe 
the  old-fashioned  Tory  pi'iuciples,  is  one  of  those  paradoxes 
which  historians  will  hereafter  puzzle  over.  As  long  as  the 
Duke  of  Wellington  lived,  the  Tories  wished  well  to  Russia, 
and  the  Whigs  detested  her  ;  now  they  have  changed  places. 
The  two  parties  seem  really  to  think  of  little  save  how  to  defeat 
one  another.  Consistency  and  principle  are  valued  only  as 
virtues  which  one's  enemies  can  be  accused  of  being  without. 
They  wheel  round  each  other  like  armies  in  the  field,  choos- 
ing their  ground  with  a  view  to  the  immediate  campaign. 
For  decency's  sake  they  cannot  avow  the  true  motives  of  their 
action,  and  conceal  it,  even  for  themselves,  behind  a  veil  of 
plausibilities  ;  but  iu  a  few  years  they  may  change  places 

again,  and  will  have  excellent  reasons  for  doing  it.     E 

any  way  was  happy,  thinking  that  we  were  going  in  for  the 
Russians  at  last  ;  and  so  were  a  number  of  militia  officers  who 
had  been  recalled  to  their  regiments,  and  were  in  high  spirits 
at  the  prospect. 


336  Oceana. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

Sail  for  America — The  '  Australia  ' — Heavy  weather — A  New  Zealand 
colonist — Easter  in  the  Southern  Hemisphere — Occupations  on  board 
— Samoa— A  missionary — Parliamentary  government  in  the  Pacific 
Islands — A  young  Australian — the  Sandwich  Islands — Honolulu — 
American  influence — Bay  of  San  Francisco. 

THE  '  Australia  '  was  a  ship  of  three  thousand  tons,  and  smartly 
fitted,  as  these  Pacific  steamers  generally  are.  The  '  City  of 
Sydney '  was  American.  The  '  Australia '  was  English,  with 
an  English  captain  and  English  officers,  the  crew  and  attend- 
ants being  principally  Chinese.  She  was  crowded  to  reple- 
tion. In  the  saloon  we  had  a  hundred  and  thirty  passengers  : 
colonial  tourists  going  to  Europe  for  the  summer ;  wealthy 
families  taking  a  sea  voyage  for  a  holiday ;  young  married 
couples  on  their  honeymoon,  &c.  All  the  idle  people  in  Auck- 
land must  have  been  on  the  pier  to  see  us  off.  Deck,  cabins, 
were  thronged  with  the  sisters,  aunts,  cousins,  friends,  who 
had  come  on  board  for  a  last  leave-taking.  From  the  tears, 
embraces,  and  exclamations,  it  might  have  seemed  we  were 
taking  our  departure  to  the  other  world.  I  heard  a  young 
lady  who  was  sitting  alone  with  a  single  companion  observe, 
'  Isn't  it  lovely  to  have  nobody  to  care  about  one,  and  so  es- 
cape all  that  ? ' 

We  were  going  north,  right  up  to  the  line.  We  were  warned 
that  it  would  be  hot,  and  hot  it  proved,  but  under  conditions 
more  intolerable  than  I  had  before  experienced.  The  sky  was 
overcast  We  had  rain  and  heavy  head-winda  The  seas  flew 


Tlie  'Australia?  337 

over  the  deck,  the  ports  were  closed,  the  hatches  shut  down. 
The  temperature  in  the  saloou  was  85°,  and  even  the  wind- 
sails  were  removed,  because  rain  and  spray  drove  down  them, 
wetted  the  passages,  and  gave  the  stewards  trouble.  I  protested 
against  this  last  enormity.  I  represented  to  the  captain,  who 
had  his  own  quarters  on  deck  and  did  not  suffer,  that  we 
should  all  be  found  smothered  some  morning,  as  in  a  Black 
Hole  of  Calcutta,  and  that  I  did  not  wish  to  die  of  the  stench 
of  my  fellow-creatures.  'Their  esprit  fort,  I  suppose  you 

mean,'  said  E .     The  spirt  of  wit  moved  the  captain's  heart 

more  than  my  expostulations.  Our  windsails  were  set  up 
again,  and  we  had  a  current  of  air  among  us,  though  damp 
and  tepid  as  in  an  orchid  house. 

When  a  number  of  people  are  shut  up  together  for  three 
or  four  weeks,  a  process  is  set  up  of  natural  selection.  We 
find  out  those  who  suit  us,  and  we  have  time  to  become  inti- 
mate with  them.  I  was  chiefly  attracted  by  a  rough,  elderly 
Scotchman,  who  had  been  thii-ty  years  in  New  Zealand,  had 
made  a  fortune  there,  and  was  now  on  his  way  home,  not  to 
remain,  but  to  look  about  him  in  the  old  country  and  see 
how  things  were  going  on.  He  was  a  shrewd,  original  old 
gentleman,  cynical  more  than  enough,  but  good-humoured  at 
bottom,  and  very  entertaining.  He  was  rich,  and  took  the 
rich  man's  view  of  things,  but  if  he  had  succeeded  it  had  been 
in  fair  fight.  He  had  been  thrown  into  the  arena  of  colonial 
life  with  thousands  of  others.  They  had  failed,  or  they  were 
still  undistinguished  in  the  general  herd.  He  had  made  his 
way  to  the  front.  He  was  an  illustration  of  the  survival  of 
the  strongest,  was  worth  attending  to,  and  was  excellent  com- 
pany. In  his  youth,  when  he  had  nothing,  he  had  been  a 
Radical.  He  had  become  a  Tory  in  his  age,  because  he  had 
property  to  lose,  and  did  not  wish  to  lie  at  the  mercy  of  those 
who  thought  as  he  had  once  thought  himself.  His  political 
22 


338  Oceana. 

views,  however,  showed  more  reading  and  general  knowledge 
than  I  was  prepared  for.  He  did  not  believe  in  the  perma- 
nence of  any  forms  of  government.  None  of  them  were  good 
for  very  much,  and  they  were  always  corrupting  and  requir- 
ing change.  The  English  constitution  he  regarded  as  an 
accidental  result  of  the  struggle  between  the  feudal  and  popu- 
lar elements  in  the  British  nation.  It  had  been  elevated  into 
a  principle,  as  a  final  solution  of  the  great  political  problem. 
It  had  been  held  up  as  an  example  for  all  mankind,  but  its 
time  was  nearly  out.  It  had  failed  everywhere  except  with 
us,  and  with  us  it  would  fail  too  when  there  were  no  longer 
two  parties,  and  the  Democracy  was  completely  supreme. 

He  was  one  of  those  who  took  an  unfavourable  view  of  the 
rising  generation  of  colonists.  The  fathers,  he  said  (just  as 
if  he  had  been  an  old  Eoman  in  Terence's  time),  had  worked 
hard  to  make  their  fortune.  The  children  only  thought  of 
spending  it.  They  were  idle  and  extravagant,  living  beyond 
their  means,  &c.,  a  complaint  which  has  been  heard  before 
and  will  be  heard  while  the  human  race  continues.  He  was 
sceptical  about  the  value  of  education,  or  of  what  we  now 
understand  by  that  unconsidered  word.  His  education  had 
been  in  work.  He  had  been  taught  to  earn  his  living  with 
his  hands.  Lads  now-a-days,  he  complained,  were  not  taught 
to  work  at  all ;  '  education '  was  a  mere  sharpening  of  the 
wits.  Suppose  a  Maori  to  learn  to  read  and  write,  to  be  sent 
to  college  to  learn  science,  mathematics,  languages,  and  the 
rest  of  it ;  but  suppose  him  to  have  lost  his  courage  and  his 
sense  of  honour,  and  to  have  learnt  to  cheat,  and  to  lie,  and 
to  gamble,  as  a  good  many  educated  white  men  did,  had  such 
a. Maori  gained  very  much?  In  my  Scot's  opinion,  the  only 
progress  worth  speaking  of  was  moral  progress.  The  rest 
was  only  change,  and  often  a  change  for  the  worse. 

He  had  the  national  interest  in  religious  questions,  and 


Easter  in  the  South  Hemisphere.  339 

talked  much  about  such  things  in  a  sceptical  way.  We  had 
some  ritualistic  ladies  and  gentlemen  on  board,  whose  ten- 
dencies provoked  his  sarcastic  humour.  They  were  indeed 
rather  provoking.  It  was  Passion  week,  and  one  of  them  told 
me  that  they  had  arranged  for  a  '  celebration  '  in  the  cabin  on 
Easter  Sunday.  It  would  be  so  nice — didn't  I  think  so  ?  I 
ought  to  have  replied  that '  nice  '  was  a  strange  word  for  such 
a  thing.  I  let  him  go  on,  however,  with  an  unmeaning  smile, 
axpelov  yeAcurus,  paying  homage  with  the  rest  of  mankind  to 
the  universal  genius  of  cant.  But  it  set  me  thinking  how 
strangely  unsuited  the  Christian  festivals  were  to  the  seasons 
of  the  other  hemisphere.  We  were  now  in  autumn,  at  the 
time  of  the  feast  of  '  ingathering  '  of  the  harvest,  and  Easter 
was  the  feast  of  the  spring  at  the  vernal  equinox,  when  the 
weather  was  still  cold  and  a  fire  was  burning  on  the  High 
Priest's  hearth.  So  with  the  rest.  The  Church  services  were 
adapted  all  of  them  to  the  occupations  of  the  different  periods 
of  the  year,  beginning  with  Christmas  at  the  winter  solstice, 
when  the  sun,  which  had  appeared  to  be  dying,  renewed  its 
youth.  Our  religious  traditions,  like  our  poetry,  are  divorced 
in  the  southern  hemisphere  from  their  natural  associations. 
They  are  exotics  from  another  climate,  and  can  only  be  pre- 
served as  exotics. 

Time  and  its  tenses  are  strange  things,  and  at  their  strang- 
est when  one  is  travelling  round  the  globe.  The  question  is 
not  only  what  season  is  it,  but  what  day  is  it,  and  what  o'clock 
is  it  ?  The  captain  makes  it  twelve  o'clock  when  he  tells  us 
that  it  is  noon  ;  and  it  seemed  as  if  a  supply  of  time  was 
among  the  ship's  stores  ;  for  when  we  reached  180°  E.  long., 
he  presented  us  with  an  extra  day,  and  we  had  two  Thurs- 
days, two  eighths  of  April,  in  one  week.  As  our  course  was 
eastward,  we  met  the  sun  each  morning  before  it  would  rise 
at  the  point  where  we  had  been  on  the  morning  before,  and 


340  Oceana. 

the  day  was,  therefore,  shorter  than  the  complete  period  of 
the  globe's  revolution.  Each  degree  of  longitude  represented 
a  loss  of  four  minutes,  and  the  total  loss  in  a  complete  circuit 
would  be  an  entire  day  of  twenty-four  hours.  We  had  gone 
through  half  of  it,  and  the  captain  owed  us  twelve  hours.  He 
paid  us  these,  and  he  advanced  us  twelve  more,  which  we 
should  have  spent  or  paid  back  to  him  by  the  time  that  we 
reached  Liverpool. 

The  weather  mended  with  us.  The  heat  continued.  The 
sea  water  was  still  at  85°,  and  the  temperature  at  night  could 
not  fall  much  below  it.  But  the  air  cleared.  The  stars  shone 
clear  after  dark,  and  we  watched  for  the  pointers  of  the  Great 
Bear,  where,  at  their  highest  elevation,  they  stood  vertical 
over  the  North  Star  and  spoke  to  us  of  home.  By-and-by  the 
North  Star  himself  showed  above  the  horizon  and  Canopus 
set  and  the  Southern  Cross,  and  we  were  once  more  in  our 
own  world.  The  Pagan  gods  again  ruled  in  the  familiar  sky, 
and  welcomed  us  back  with  steadfast,  friendly  glance.  Our 
meals  were  a  scramble,  the  attendance  indifferent,  the  cook- 
ing execrable.  Not  that  cooks  or  stewards  were  specially  in 
fault.  There  were  too  many  of  us,  and  the  vessel's  staff  was 
unequal  to  the  demands  upon  it  But  our  windows  could 
now  stand  open  day  and  night,  and  air  brought  health, 
and  health  appetite.  Five  minutes  after  dinner  it  mattered 
little  what  we  had  eaten.  We  played  chess,  we  played  whist, 
we  read  books.  Every  noon  there  was  a  sweepstakes  for  the 
number  of  miles  run  in  the  twenty-four  hours.  The  numbers 
which  promised  well  were  set  up  for  auction  and  there  was 
fresh  excitement.  The  morning  bath  was  another  incident. 
There  were  five  baths  for  us  gentlemen,  at  which  we  were  to 
take  our  turn,  and  every  day  between  seven  and  eight  o'clock 
some  forty  of  us  were  to  be  seen  sitting  in  rows,  in  gorgeous 
dressing-gowns,  in  the  saloon,  expecting  our  summons,  the 


Spiritual  Sustenance.  341 

modest  among  us  getting  pushed  aside,  as  at  the  Pool  of 
Bethesda. 

On  Sundays,  games  were  suspended,  and  we  had  the  Church 
of  England  service,  the  captain,  as  usual,  officiating.  In  the 
evenings  clerical  volunteers  were  allowed  to  preach.  A  young 
Dissenter  of  metaphysical  tendencies  was  the  chief  performer, 
and  once,  being  over  ambitious,  he  blundered  into  the  heresy 
of  the  Docetse.  Christ,  he  told  us,  was  never  crucified — never 
Christ,  but  only  the  body  of  Christ.  We  were  not  our  bodies. 
We  saw  a  certain  figure  with  special  stature,  figure,  and  or- 
gans, and  we  called  it  collectively  an  individual  man.  But 
the  man  might  lose  eyes,  arms,  feet,  yet  be  the  same  man 
still.  His  members  were  his,  but  they  were  not  he.  The 
man  was  something  behind  all  these.  The  personality,  the 
Ich,  was  something  which  could  not  be  seen,  could  not  be 
touched,  could  not  be  handled,  still  less  could  it  be  crucified. 
We  were  to  reflect  on  this  and  find  comfort  in  it.  Everyone 
now-a-days  goes  in  for  amateur  philosophy  or  for  amateur 
Catholic  ritualism  ;  but  it  is  curious  to  see  that  they  are  ah1 
for  toleration,  and  seem  to  think  that  we  all  mean  the  same 
thing  though  we  say  exactly  the  opposite. 

'  Oh  for  one  hour  of  blind  old  Dandolo  ! '  I  sometimes  am 
inclined  to  cry  :  Oh  for  the  hard  voice  of  the  uncompromising 
Genevan,  who  knew,  at  least,  that  lies  were  not  truth,  and 
that  if  taken  into  the  soul  they  worked  like  poison  there. 
The  Genevans  are  extinct  as  the  dodo  and  the  moa.  Toler- 
ance means  at  bottom  that  no  one  knows  anything  about 
the  matter,  and  that  one  opinion  is  as  good  as  another.  Is 
there  nothing  which  can  be  surely  known  ?  Is  it  true,  for 
instance,  that  on  '  the  tracks  of  all  evil  deeds  there  follow 
avenging  hell-hounds  from  which  there  is  no  escape.'  If 
such  hounds  there  be,  it' is  dangerous  to  leave  their  existence 
an  open  question  for  fools  to  doubt  about.  One  opinion  on 


342  Oceana. 

that  subject  is  clearly  not  as  good  as  another,  and  we  may 
recollect  to  our  advantage  how  wise  men  have  thought  about 
it  in  other  daya 

o-o<£i£  yap  IK  TOV 
K\€tvov  ITTOS  irffavrat 

TO  KO.KOV   8oK€LV  TTOT    fO~0\OV 
T(t>  8     tfJLfifV    OTW 

O.TO.V, 


'  There  was  one  who  wisely  spake  a  famous  word,  that  ill 
may  seem  to  be  good,  and  that  when  the  gods  will  bring  a 
man's  soul  to  wreck  they  make  ill  to  be  his  good.' 

'  There  is  a  way  that  seemeth  right  unto  a  man,  but  the 
end  thereof  is  death.'  That  is  a  fact  if  anything  is  a  fact  ; 
yet,  again,  who  is  to  be  the  judge  ?  Who  is  sufficient  for 
these  things  ?  Which  is  best  or  which  is  worst  —  to  tolerate 
all,  to  leave  one  fool  to  utter  his  folly  and  other  fools  to  be- 
lieve it,  or  to  burn  the  wrong  man  at  the  stake  ? 

We  touched  at  Samoa,  famous  lately  for  the  German  doings 
there.  It  was  night.  I  saw  from  my  berth  the  gleaming  of 
lights  and  the  large  spars  and  masts  of  anchored  steamers, 
but  we  were  off  again  and  out  of  sight  of  land  before  morning 
brought  me  on  deck.  A  missionary  came  on  board  there, 
who  had  passed  his  life  among  these  islands.  He  was  over 
seventy,  but  was  still  hale  and  vigorous.  He  was  going  home 
on  business  of  the  society,  but  intended  to  return,  and  seemed 
as  if  he  had  still  many  years  of  work  in  him.  His  conversa- 
tion was  interesting,  for  he  had  new  things  to  tell  us,  talking 
expansively  about  the  natives  and  seeming  to  like  them  well. 
His  voice  and  manners  had  at  first  a  slight  professional  twang 
as  if  he  thought  something  of  that  kind  was  expected  of  him. 
He  gave  me  some  tracts  to  read,  and  it  appeared  that  among 
his  other  qualifications  he  was  a  polemical  divine.  There 


%  A  Samoan  Missionary.  343 

had  been  a  wolf  in  his  fold.  A  certain  Mr.  Coxe  had  been 
introducing  latitudinarianism  into  Polynesia,  had  written  a 
pamphlet  on  Universal  Salvation,  and  had  ventured  an  opin- 
ion that  wicked  men,  wicked  angels,  and  even  the  devil  him- 
self, would  be  eventually  converted  and  received  to  grace. 
Mr.  Coxe's  teaching  had  been  dangerously  popular.  The 
missionary  had  taken  the  field  against  him,  and  had  written 
a  pamphlet  on  Eternal  Damnation,  which  he  gave  rne  to  pe- 
ruse, and  seemed  anxious  for  my  suffrage.  Allowing  for 
differences  of  expression,  I  was  wholly  of  his  way  of  thinking. 
If  the  devil  had  been  capable  of  redemption,  he  would  have 
been  redeemed  before  he  had  been  allowed  to  do  so  much 
mischief.  But  the  curious  part  of  the  matter  was  that  our 
new  eager  friend  living  in  those  remote  regions  had  evidently 
never  heard  that  such  an  opinion  had  been  avowed  before, 
and  imagined  that  a  speculation  which  had  been  thrashed  out 
for  thousands  of  years  and  in  half  the  languages  of  the  world 
had  been  uttered  for  the  first  time  by  Mr.  Coxe. 

He  was  a  very  honest  man,  however.  I  did  not  quarrel 
with  his  zeal,  and  he  had  produced  better  work  than  this 
pamphlet.  With  the  help  of  his  brother  missionaries,  he  had 
translated  the  bible  into  Samoan,  and  he  told  us  with  great 
satisfaction  that  the  natives  had  bought  thirty  thousand  copies 
at  two  dollars  apiece.  Actually  thirty  thousand,  handsomely 
bound  'with  gilt  edges.'  Fifteen  hundred  pounds  he  had 
been  able  to  remit  annually  from  this  source  to  the  parent 
society,  the  money  and  the  gilt  edges  together  being  a  visi- 
ble evidence  of  the  blessings  of  Christianity  to  the  heathen. 

Doubtless  it  was  an  interesting  fact,  and  from  those  Bibles 
seeds  may  have  dropped  into  many  a  poor  unknown  soul,  to 
make  it  better  than  it  had  been.  But  I  could  not  help  say- 
ing that  there  were  other  effects  of  conversion  which  would 
interest  me  even  more  if  he  could  tell  me  of  them.  The 


344  Oceana. 

Polynesian  bad  a  bad  name  for  idleness  and  unchastity — was 
there  any  improvement  in  this  respect  ?  I  admired  his  can- 
dour. The  moral  effects  of  religion,  he  said,  were  sometimes 
not  very  visible  even  in  old-established  Christian  countries. 
The  Polynesians  could  read.  They  had  schools  and  chapels. 
They  had  ceased  to  eat  one  another,  "which  was  one  step 
towards  improvement ;  others  might  follow.  Moral  progress 
was  always  slow,  and  I  must  remember  that  the  intercourse 
with  white  traders  and  sailors  was  a  terrible  counteracting 
influence.  This  was  true  and  fairly  put.  I  liked  the  old 
man  much  more  than  I  expected  to  do.  Autumn  '  gilds  ere 
it  withers,'  and  it  is  sometimes  the  same  with  old  age.  We 
had  among  the  passengers  a  keen  Mephistophelic  sort  of  gen- 
tleman who  believed  in  nothing — who,  like  Pistol,  had  used 
the  world  as  his  oyster  and  extracted  pearls  out  of  it  suf- 
ficient to  make  his  life  flow  easity.  He  had  been  successful 
in  business  ;  he  had  done,  and  would  continue  to  do,  effec- 
tively and  well  whatever  he  undertook  ;  but  his  theory  of 
existence  evidently  was  that  in  such  a  world  as  this  the  only 
wisdom  was  to  get  as  much  enjoyment  out  of  it  as  could  be 
had.  All  else  was  illusion.  He  was  excellent  company,  in- 
tellectually the  best  that  we  had — a  cleverer  man,  beyond  all 
comparison,  than  my  poor  missionary  ;  but  a  belief  in  some- 
thing— some  object  outside  oneself,  for  which  one  can  care 
and  exert  oneself,  brings  a  grace  into  the  character  which  is 
not  to  be  had  without  it.  Simplicity  is  more  attractive  than 
brilliancy,  and  my  missionary  had  a  humour  of  his  own  which 
was  often  diverting.  He  told  me  that  in  all  those  groups  of 
islands — Samoa,  the  Tonga  Islands,  and  the  rest — they  had 
now  parliamentary  government,  with  ministers  responsible  to 
the  legislature.  The  result  was  ridiculous  beyond  belief,  and 
even  more  mischievous  than  ridiculous.  His  own  brethren 
had  been  the  means  of  introducing  the  system,  and  in  con- 


The  Sandwich  Islands.  345 

sequence  had  made  their  way  into  office  and  become  consid- 
erable people.  One  of  them  somewhere  had  become  a  dem- 
ocratic despot — a  Polycrates  without  the  genius,  but  with  cun- 
ning sufficient  to  keep  himself  in  power.  The  unfortunate 
people  !  Was  it  not  enough  that  we  should  give  them  gun- 
powder, and  gin,  and  measles,  and  smallpox,  but  that  we 
must  send  our  political  epidemic  among  them  as  well?  It 
will  help  at  any  rate  to  hasten  their  end. 

We  were  to  halt  next  at  the  Sandwich  Islands.  I  had  read 
Miss  Bird's  book  about  these  islands,  and  her  glowing  descrip- 
tion of  the  burning  mountain  in  Hawaii,  the  largest  active 
volcano  in  the  world.  Unless  we  heard  on  arriving  there  that 

war  was  actually  declared,  E and  three  or  four  others  of 

our  party  meant  to  stop  and  see  it,  and  they  urged  me  not  to 
miss  the  opportunity.  Whether  I  should  stop  or  not  de- 
pended on  whether  I  felt  curiosity  about  the  inhabitants.  I 
could  be  contented  to  read  of  lakes  of  melted  lava  without 
wanting  to  look  at  them.  A  lake  of  liquid  fire  is  less  beauti- 
ful to  me  than  a  lake  of  water.  A  volcano  is  only  a  late  relic 
of  the  process  by  which  the  earth  was  prepared  for  human 
habitation.  It  is  now  merely  an  instrument  of  destruction, 
and  the  irrational  forces  of  nature  in  violent  action  I  feel  dis- 
tressing and  disturbing.  I  prefer  settled  districts,  where  my 
brother  mortals  are  rejoicing  in  the  work  of  their  hands.  I 
therefore  postponed  my  own  decision  till  I  had  seen  at  least 
what  Honolulu  was  like,  where  we  were  to  stop.  Queen 
Emma  was  there,  whom  we  had  seen  in  England.  There  was 
a  king,  and  his  parliament,  and  his  constitutional  advisers. 
There  was  a  separate  island— Molokai — given  up  to  lepers, 
which,  if  not  pleasant,  might  be  tragical.  Leprosy  is  fatally 
frequent  in  the  Sandwich  archipelago.  They  try  to  stamp  it 
out  by  separating  the  infected  from  the  healthy,  and  everyone, 
high  or  low,  who  is  seized  by  the  disorder  is  removed  thither 


346  Oceana. 

to  remain  till  lie  dies.  This,  too,  I  thought,  I  could  be  con- 
tent to  read  about ;  but  a  young  Catholic  priest  was  said  to 
be  there,  a  Father  Damiens  (let  his  name  be  had  in  honour !), 
who  had  spontaneously  devoted  his  life  to  comforting  and 
helping  these  poor  creatures  in  their  horrid  exile.  Such  a 
man  as  that  might  be  worth  an  effort  to  see,  if  a  burning 
mountain  was  insufficient,  or  even  the  working  of  free  politi- 
cal institutions.  In  1779,  Captain  Cook  found  a  population 
of  three  hundred  thousand  in  these  islands.  At  the  last  cen- 
sus there  were  forty -nine  thousand.  If  parliamentary  govern- 
ment '  wishes  to  work  a  miracle,'  as  the  American  said  when 
he  was  falling  over  a  cliff,  '  now  is  the  time.'  Let  it  avert,  if 
it  can,  the  swift  disappearance  of  a  people  who  were  innocent, 
and  happy,  and  prosperous  before  the  white  man  and  his 
'  notions '  came  among  them. 

Meantime,  I  had  been  studying  more  at  my  leisure  the 
human  freight  of  the  '  Australia.'  There  were  ah1  sorts  among 
us,  and  I  was  sorry  to  have  to  agree  more  than  I  wished  with 
my  rough  New  Zealand  Scot  about  the  younger  generation 
of  the  colonists.  Professor  Aldis's  pupils  had  been  of  the 
working,  industrious  sort,  and  he  thought  very  favourably  of 
them.  Those  that  we  had  on  board,  and  there  were  a  good 
many  of  them,  were  of  the  moneyed  kind,  who  had  leisure 
and  means  and  the  self-sufficiency  which  goes  along  with  it. 
Of  these  I  liked  none.  They  were,  as  a  rule,  vain,  ignorant, 
underbred,  without  dignity,  without  courtesy,  and  with  a  con- 
ceit which  was  unbounded.  Middle-class  democracy  is  not 
favourable  to  the  growth  of  manners,  and,  with  all  my  wish 
to  find  it  otherwise,  I  had  to  contrast  them,  not  to  their  ad- 
vantage, with  two  or  three  English  youths  among  us,  who, 
though  belonging  to  the  same  social  class,  might  have  been 
another  order  of  beings.  They  brought  back  to  my  mind  a 
gentleman  whom  I  had  fallen  in  with  somewhere,  who  might 


Young  Australia.  347 

be  taken  as  a  type  of  the  sort  to  whom  my  Scot  so  much  ob- 
jected. He  had  struck  me  not  so  much  by  his  opinions  as  by 
the  arrogance  and  insolence  with  which  he  expressed  them. 
He  belonged,  I  believe,  to  a  great  mercantile  house  in  one  of 
the  Australian  cities  ;  and  if  he  was  the  representative  in  any 
sense  of  his  contemporaries,  the  connection  with  the  mother 
country  will  not  be  of  long  continuance.  Not  that  he  wished 
to  break  it  immediately.  Australia,  he  told  me,  had  a  glori- 
ous destiny  before  it.  It  was  to  stand  beside  the  United 
States  as  an  equal,  perhaps  as  a  superior,  and  they  two  were 
to  be  the  greatest  countries  in  the  world.  Separation  from 
the  mother  country  was  inevitable.  The  Australian  States 
hud  too  high  a  destiny  to  be  kept  long  in  leading  strings.  Ho 
and  his  friends,  however,  had  no  wish  to  cut  them  prema- 
turely. They  would  allow  us,  if  we  liked  it,  to  continue  a 
little  longer  to  be  useful  to  them,  to  warn  off  intruding  Ger- 
mans, to  supply  them  with  capital,  &c.,  and  to  feel  ourselves 
honoured  in  doing  it.  The  blandness  and  conviction  with 
which  he  delivered  his  sentiments  would  have  been  entertain- 
ing if  it  had  not  been  so  absurd.  He  was  so  satisfied  with 
his  country  and  himself,  that  if  I  had  told  him  that  we  all 
knew  how  great  the  honour  was  to  be  the  dry  nurse  to  so 
grand  a  baby,  how  delighted  we  were  to  be  their  humble  ser- 
vants, he  would  never  have  suspected  me  of  irony.  You  may 
venture  any  liberties,  provided  you  flatter  sufficiently.  One 
thing  only  you  must  not  do.  You  must  not  express  the 
shadow  of  a  doubt  of  their  present  and  future  magnificence. 
An  independent  Australia,  with  such  persons  as  my  young  ac- 
quaintance at  the  head  of  it,  would  certainly  have  a  remark- 
able future  before  it,  though  less  magnificent  than  they  count 
upon.  Happily  in  the  colonies  themselves  I  had  not  met  with 
many  such  specimens.  I  had  been  thrown  chiefly  among 
their  elders.  But  they  do  exist  and  may  have  some  influence, 


348  Oceana. 

and  it  is  by  those  who  are  now  growing  to  manhood,  and  not 
by  the  generation  which  must  soon  pass  away,  that  the  rela- 
tion between  England  and  her  dependencies  will  be  eventually 
determined.  Absit  omen. 

After  the  first  four  days  of  our  voyage,  the  Pacific  had 
justified  its  name.  We  had  steamed  regularly  on,  with 
smooth  seas,  sunny  days,  and  starry  nights.  The  heat,  when 
we  crossed  the  line,  ceased  to  be  oppressive.  There  were 
complaints  that  the  vessel  was  slow,  but  we  went  along  at  an 
average  of  ten  knots,  making  two  hundred  and  forty  miles  a 
day.  Life  must  be  lived  somewhere,  and  to  spend  a  few 
extra  hours  between  the  tropics  in  uninterrupted  quiet  was 
not  a  hardship  to  be  complained  of.  At  daybreak  on  April 
13  we  came  in  sight  of  Honolulu.  We  were  now  in  our  own 
hemisphere  and  had  crossed  from  autumn  into  spring. 

The  Sandwich  Islands,  moistened  with  continual  rains,  are 
never  liable  to  draught,  and  sun  and  showers  together  carpet 
plain  and  mountain  with  exquisite  verdure.  The  substance 
of  them  is  volcanic  rock.  The  coral  insect  builds  for  ever 
along  the  shores.  The  rain  washes  down  from  the  hills  the 
red  dust  of  the  crumbling  scoria,  which,  settling  over  the  coral 
banks,  forms  on  one  side  a  low,  level  plain  with  rich  alluvial 
soil.  Here  grow  the  endless  trees  of  the  tropics,  whose  leaf, 
flower,  and  fruit  renew  themselves  perpetually  as  in  the  gar- 
dens of  Alcinous.  A  n  itural  harbour  appears  to  have  been 
formed  by  floods  rushing  down  through  a  valley  from  the 
mountains,  which  have  hollowed  out  a  large,  deep  lagoon, 
have  cut  a  way  through  the  coral  reef  into  the  sea,  and  keep 
the  opening  clear  with  the  help  of  the  tidal  scour.  The 
depth  of  water  is  about  six  fathoms,  and  the  oval  basin  is 
perhaps  half  a  mile  in  its  shortest,  a  mile  in  its  longest  diam- 
eter. 

The  whole  Sandwich  group  is  under  the  protection  of  the 


Honolulu.  349 

Americans.  Guarded  by  the  stars  and  stripes,  a  phantom 
royalty  maintains  itself  at  Honolulu.  There  is  a  palace,  an 
army  (of  sixt}r  warriors),  a  coinage  with  his  majesty's  face 
upon  it,  a  parliament,  a  prime  minister,  an  attorney-general, 
a  chancellor  of  the  exchequer,  a  minister  for  foreign  affairs  ; 
how  many  more  secretaries  of  state  I  do  not  know.  We 
steamed  in  between  the  two  natural  coral  piers,  and  brought 
up  in  deep  water  alongside  the  jetty.  The  ship  was  to  stay 
six  hours,  and  we  all  rushed  on  shore  to  feel  the  land  under 
our  feet,  and  to  breakfast  at  a  Yankee  hotel,  where  we  were 
promised  all  the  luxuries  which  at  sea  are  unattainable. 
Along  the  platform  were  rows  of  dubious-looking  damsels 
in  pink  and  blue  calicoes,  soliciting  the  passengers,  with 
large  swimming  eyes,  to  buy  coral  sprays  and  tortoise-shell 
ornaments.  Escaping  from  these  sirens  we  made  our  way 
into  the  town,  composed  of  streets  of  uninteresting  wooden 
houses  on  the  modern  American  pattern,  without  local 
characteristics  of  any  kind.  Telephone  wires  were  stretched 
above  the  roofs,  thick  as  spider-webs  in  autumn,  for  the 
transaction  of  the  infinite  business  which  these  means  of 
swift  communication  seemed  to  imply.  Men  and  women 
were  lounging  languidly  about  in  loose  European  costumes, 
with  an  evident  preference  for  bright  colours.  Both  sexes 
were  tall,  but  heavily-limbed,  flaccid,  and  sensual-looking. 
The  Americans  have  not  been  idle.  They  have  set  up  abund- 
ant schools,  and  if  the  teaching  is  equal  to  the  professed 
scheme  of  instruction,  the  Sandwich  Islanders  should  be  the 
best  educated  people  to  be  found  anywhere.  No  great  re- 
sults seem  yet  to  have  been  arrived  at,  either  intellectual  or 
moral.  They  have  a  code  of  laws  equally  excellent,  but  they 
do  not  obey  them,  at  least  in  one  most  important  particular  ; 
for  strong  drinks  are  forbidden,  yet  are  freely  consumed,  the 
last  king  dispensing  with  the  law  in  his  own  favour,  the 


350  Ocean  a. 

present  king  not  being  a  great  deal  better,  and  their  subjects 
following  the  example.  So  far  as  I  could  hear — for  my  own 
observation  was,  of  course,  worth  nothing — there  is  a  varnish 
over  the  place  of  Yankee  civilisation,  which  has  destroyed 
the  natural  vitality  without  as  yet  producing  anything  better 
or  as  good.  To  the  eye  of  the  passing  traveller,  the  human 
aspect  was  uninviting ;  not  quite  as  much  so  as  the  coaling 
station  at  the  Cape  de  Verde  Islands,  but  approaching  near 
to  it.  Miss  Bird  speaks  warmly  of  the  good-nature  of  the 
people,  and,  being  of  Adam's  race,  they  have  probably  merits 
of  their  own  which  would  be  appreciated  on  closer  acquaint- 
ance, but  I  was  not  encouraged  to  hope  that  they  would 
interest  me  as  deserving  serious  attention. 

Outside  the  streets  the  original  loveliness  of  a  tropical  land 
reasserted  itself.  Palms  towered  up,  thickly  clustered  with 
cocoa-nuts.  Bananas  waved  their  long  broad  leaves.  We 
walked  under  flowing  acacias,  palmettos,  bread-fruit  trees, 
magnolias,  and  innumerable  shrubs  in  the  glowing  bloom  of 
spring.  A  shower  had  fallen,  and  called  out  the  perfume  of 
the  blossoms.  Hibiscus  and  pomegranate  crimsoned  the 
hedges.  Passion-flowers,  Bougainvillaeas,  and  convolvulus 
crept  up  the  tree-stems  or  hung  in  masses  on  the  walls.  Man 
may  be  vulgar,  but  trees  and  flowers  cannot  be.  Even  the 
wooden  boxes  in  which  the  poorer  natives  lived,  mean  and 
featureless  as  they  might  be,  were  redeemed  from  entire  ugli- 
ness by  the  foliage  in  which  they  were  buried,  and  the  bits  of 
garden  surrounding  them.  The  strangest  thing  was  the  mul- 
titude of  telephone  wires,  which  followed  us  everywhere  and 
made  a  network  against  the  sky.  The  people  looked  like  the 
laziest  in  the  world.  The  wires  would  indicate  the  busiest 
I  was  told — I  know  not  how  correctly — as  an  explanation  of 
the  mystery,  that  an  American  speculator,  with  a  large  tele- 
phone stock  on  band  which  he  wanted  to  dispose  of,  induced 


Honolulu.  351 

the  government  of  the  Sandwich  Islands  to  relieve  him  of  it, 
by  a  promise  of  the  miracles  which  it  would  work. 

The  hotel  was  half  a  mile  from  the  landing-place.  We 
flowed  on  in  a  stream  and  came  to  it  at  last — a  big  house  of 
large  pretensions,  in  a  grove  of  trees  which  kept  the  sun  off. 
A  broad  flight  of  stairs  led  up  into  a  hall.  From  the  hall  we 
were  taken  into  a  vast  cool  saloon,  or  coffee-room,  and  there, 
under  the  master  eye  of  a  smart  Yankee  manager,  the  break- 
fast which  we  had  come  in  search  of  was  provided  for  us,  and 
certainly  excellent  it  was  :  fresh  fish,  fresh  eggs,  fresh  butter, 
cream,  rolls,  fruit — all  the  very  best  which  could  be  provided 
by  nature  and  art  combined.  Let  admiration  be  given  where 
it  is  due.  When  it  was  over  we  dispersed,  some  to  drive  in 
carriages  into  the  mountains,  others  to  examine  further  into 
the  town.  One  party  went  to  the  palace  to  wait  on  the  king, 
but  failed  to  see  him.  His  Majesty  had  been  occupied  late 
the  night  before  and  was  indisposed.  I  wandered  about  the 
environs,  looking  at  the  people  and  their  ways,  and  wondering 
at  the  nature  of  our  Anglo-American  character,  which  was 
spreading  thus  into  all  corners  of  the  globe,  and  fashioning 
everything  after  its  own  likeness.  The  original,  the  natural, 
the  picturesque,  goes  down  before  it  as  under  the  wand  of  a 
magician.  In  the  place  of  them  springs  up  the  commonplace 
and  the  materially  useful.  Those  who  can  adopt  its  worship 
and  practise  its  liturgy,  it  will  feed,  and  house,  and  lodge  011 
the  newest  pattern,  set  them  in  a  way  of  improving  their  con- 
dition by  making  money,  of  gaining  useful  knowledge,  and 
enjoying  themselves  in  tea-gardens  and  music-hall ;  while 
those  who  cannot  or  will  not  bend,  it  sweeps  away  as  with 
the  sword  of  the  destroyer. 

The  old  races  of  the  Pacific  islands  will  soon  be  utterly  ob- 
literated. It  is  the  nigger  only  who  entirely  prospers  under 
these  new  conditions.  As  a  slave  he  could  grow  into  an  Uncle 


352  Oceana. 

Tom  ;  as  a  free  citizen  he  carries  his  head  as  high  as  his  late 
master,  and  laughs,  works,  and  earns  his  wages,  and  enjoys 
life  as  becomes  a  man  and  a  brother.  It  was  predicted  of  him 
that  he,  too,  when  he  was  emancipated,  would  die  off  like  the 
rest,  but  he  shows  no  sign  of  any  such  intention.  The  mod- 
ern system  of  things,  whatever  its  defects,  agrees  certainly 
with  the  negro  constitution.  ' 

The  slight  disposition  which  I  had  felt  to  remain  at  Hono- 
lulu I  found  to  have  evaporated.  There  would  be  no  advan- 
tage commensurate  with  the  time  which  it  would  cost.  I  cared 
nothing  about  the  volcano.  Father  Damieus  I  would  have 
gladly  seen,  but  I  could  be  of  no  use  to  him,  and  no  pei-soual 
acquaintance  could  have  increased  the  respect  which  I  felt  for 
him.  It  was  with  real  relief  that  I  heard  the  whistle  which 
called  us  back  on  board,  and  the  grinding  of  the  revolving 
screw. 

The  rest  of  our  voyage  was  uneventful.  We  had  lost  E , 

whose  pleasant  companionship  had  brightened  so  large  a  part 
of  our  expedition.  We  had  lost  Mr.  Ashbury,  who  had  stayed 
behind  with  him,  and  my  entertaining  Mephistophelic  friend. 
We  made  the  best  of  the  slight  compensation  which  their  de- 
parture brought  with  it.  They  had  '  messed  '  at  our  table  in 
the  saloon.  The  Chinese  steward,  having  a  smaller  number 
to  wait  upon,  could  attend  better  to  such  of  us  as  remained. 
The  weather  cooled  perceptibly  when  we  left  the  tropics — we 
met  the  keen  north  wind  which  blows  almost  all  the  year  down 
the  Western  American  coast.  On  April  20,  we  entered  between 
the  Heads  into  the  Bay  of  San  Francisco,  and  saw  the  smoke 
of  the  Golden  City  six  miles  in  front  of  us.  The  opening  is 
extremely  striking — the  bay  itself  is  as  large  as  Port  Jackson. 
The  hills  are  higher,  the  outlines  grander.  The  only  inferior- 
ity is  in  the  absence  of  timber.  There  was  grass  everywhere, 
in  the  freshness  of  spring,  but  not  a  tree  that  we  could  see 


San  Francisco.  353 

from  the  water  ;  and  we  felt  the  bareness  more  strongly  after 
New  Zealand  and  Australia.  Another  difference  made  itself 
felt,  the  effect  of  which  it  was  impossible  to  resist.  There 
had  been  life  and  energy  in  Melbourne  and  Sydney,  with 
crowded  docks  and  growing  enterprise  ;  but  an  American  city 
— and  San  Francisco  especially — is  more  than  they.  The 
very  pilot's  voice  as  he  came  on  board  had  a  ring  of  decision 
about  it.  The  great  liners  passing  in  and  out  with  the  stars 
and  stripes  flying  ;  the  huge  ferry-boats  rushing  along,  deck 
rising  above  deck,  and  black  with  passengers  ;  the  lines  of 
houses  on  the  shore,  stretching  leagues  beyond  the  actual 
town,  ah1  spoke  of  the  pulsations  of  a  great  national  existence, 
which  were  beating  to  its  farthest  extremity. 

San  Francisco,  half  a  century  ago,  was  a  sleepy  Spanish  vil- 
lage. It  is  now  one  of  the  most  important  cities  of  the  world, 
destined,  if  things  continue  as  they  are,  to  expand  into  dimen- 
sions to  which  the  present  size  of  it  is  nothing,  for  it  is  and 
must  be  the  chief  outlet  into  the  Pacific  of  the  trade  of  the 
American  continent. 
23 


354:  Oceana. 


CHAPTEK  XX. 

The  American  Union — The  Civil  War  and  the  results  of  it — Effect  of  the 
Union  on  the  American  character — San  Francisco — Palace  Hotel — 
The  Market  —The  clubs  —Aspect  of  the  city — Californian  tempera- 
ment— The  Pacific  Railway — Alternative  routes  -Start for  New  York 
— Sacramento  Valley — The  Sierra  Nevada — Indian  territory — Salt 
Lake — The  Mormons — The  Rocky  Mountains — Cation  of  the  Rio 
Grande — The  prairies — Chicago — New  York  and  its  wonders — The 
'  Etruria ' — Fastest  passage  on  record — Liverpool. 

THE  problem  of  how  to  combine  a  number  of  self -governed 
communities  into  a  single  commonwealth,  which  now  lies  be- 
fore Englishmen  who  desire  to  see  a  federation  of  the  empire, 
has  been  solved,  and  solved  completely,  in  the  American 
Union.  The  bond  which,  at  the  Declaration  of  Independ- 
ence, was  looser  than  that  which  now  connects  Australia  and 
England,  became  strengthened  by  time  and  custom.  The 
attempt  to  break  it  was  successfully  resisted  by  the  sword, 
and  the  American  republic  is,  and  is  to  continue,  so  far  as 
reasonable  foresight  can  anticipate,  one  and  henceforth  indis- 
soluble. 

Each  state  is  free  to  manage  its  own  private  affairs,  to  leg- 
islate for  itself,  subject  to  the  fundamental  laws  of  the  Union ; 
and  to  administer  its  own  internal  government,  with  this  res- 
ervation only — that  separation  is  not  to  be  thought  of.  The 
right  to  separate  was  settled  once  for  all  by  a  civil  war  which 
startled  the  world  by  its  magnitude,  but  which,  terrible 
though  it  might  be,  was  not  disproportioned  to  the  greatness 
of  the  issues  which  were  involved.  Had  the  South  succeeded 
in  winning  independence,  the  cloth  once  rent  would  have 


San  Francisco.  355 

been  rent  again.  There  would  not  have  been  one  America, 
but  many  Americas.  The  New  World  would  have  trodden 
over  again  in  the  tracks  of  the  old.  There  would  have  been 
rival  communities,  with  rival  constitutions,  democracies  pass- 
ing into  military  despotisms,  standing  armies,  intrigues  and 
quarrels,  and  wars  on  wars.  The  completeness  with  which 
the  issue  has  been  accepted  shows  that  the  Americans  under- 
stood the  alternative  that  lay  before  them.  That  the  wound 
so  easily  healed  was  a  proof  that  they  had  looked  the  alterna- 
tive in  the  face,  and  were  satisfied  with  the  verdict  which  had 
been  pronounced. 

And  well  they  may  be  satisfied.  The  dimensions  and  value 
of  any  single  man  depend  on  the  body  of  which  he  is  a  mem- 
ber. As  an  individual,  with  his  horizon  bounded  by  his  per- 
sonal interests,  he  remains,  however  high  his  gifts,  but  a  mean 
creature.  His  thoughts  are  small,  his  aims  narrow  ;  he  has 
no  common  concerns  or  common  convictions  which  bind  him 
to  his  fellows.  He  lives,  he  works,  he  wins  a  share — small  or 
great — of  the  necessaries  or  luxuries  which  circumstances 
throw  within  his  reach,  and  then  he  dies  and  there  is  an  end 
of  him.  A  man,  on  the  other  hand,  who  is  more  than  him- 
self, who  is  part  of  an  institution,  who  has  devoted  himself  to 
a  cause — or  is  a  citizen  of  an  imperial  power — expands  to  the 
scope  and  fulness  of  the  larger  organism  ;  and  the  grander 
the  organization,  the  larger  and  more  important  the  unit  that 
knows  that  he  belongs  to  it.  His  thoughts  are  wider,  his  in- 
terests less  selfish,  his  ambitions  ampler  and  nobler.  As  a 
granite  block  is  to  the  atoms  of  which  it  is  composed  when 
disintegrated,  so  are  men  in  organic  combination  to  the  same 
men  only  aggregated  together.  Each  particle  contracts  new 
qualities  which  are  created  by  the  intimacy  of  union.  Indi- 
vidual Jesuits  are  no  more  than  other  mortals.  The  Jesuits 
as  a  society  are  not  mortal  at  all,  and  rule  the  Catholic  world. 
Behind  each  American  citizen  America  is  standing,  and  he 


356  Oceana. 

knows  it,  and  is  the  man  that  he  is  because  he  knows  it.  The 
Anglo-Americans  divided  might  have  fared  no  better  than  the 
Spanish  colonies.  The  Anglo-Americans  united  command  the 
respectful  fear  of  all  mankind,  and,  as  Pericles  said  of  the 
Athenians,  each  unit  of  them  acts  as  if  the  fortunes  of  his 
country  depended  only  on  himself.  A  great  nation  makes 
great  men  ;  a  small  nation  makes  little  men. 

The  Americans,  as  I  said,  have  settled  the  matter  for  them- 
selves. Can  we  settle  it  for  ours  ?  It  is  the  question  for  us, 
on  the  answer  to  which  the  complexion  of  our  future  depends. 
We,  if  we  all  please,  can  unite  as  they  have  united,  can  be 
knit  together  in  as  firm  a  bond,  and  hold  the  sea  sceptre  as 
lords  of  Oceana  in  so  firm  a  grasp  that  a  world  combined  in 
arms  would  fail. to  wrest  it  from  us.  As  the  interests  of 
America  forbade  division,  so  do  ours  forbid  it.  United,  we 
shall  all  be  great  and  strong  in  the  greatness  and  strength  of 
our  common  empire,  and  the  British  nation  will  have  a  career 
before  it  more  glorious  than  our  glorious  past.  All  wise  men 
know  this.  Yet  it  is  called  impossible,  because  we  have  taught 
ourselves  to  believe  that  there  is  no  other  reliable  motive  for 
nations  or  individuals  than  a  narrow  selfishness.  With  that 
conviction,  of  course  it  is  impossible,  and  all  other  great  things 
are  impossible.  We  are  a  lost  people.  Faith  in  a  high  course 
is  the  only  basis  of  fine  and  noble  action.  '  Believe  and  ye 
shall  be  saved,'  is  as  true  in  politics  as  in  religion,  and  belief 
in  the  superior  principle  of  our  corporate  life,  is  itself  its  own 
realisation.  Let  it  be  understood  among  us,  as  it  is  among 
the  Americans,  that  we  are  one — though  the  bond  be  but  a 
spiritual  one — that  separation  is  treason,  and  the  suggestion 
of  it  misprision  of  treason,  and  all  is  done.  Divorce  between 
husband  and  wife  is  always  a  possibility,  for  divorce  is  a  con- 
sequence of  sin,  and  men  and  women  are  all  liable  to  sin  ; 
but  a  married  pair  do  not  contemplate  divorce,  or  speak  of  it 
or  make  preparation  for  it,  either  when  they  begin  their  lives 


San  Francisco.  357 

together,  or  tread  through  their  daily  round  of  duties  and  en- 
joyments side  by  side.  Talked  of  and  debated,  it  is  already 
on  its  way  to  realisation  ;  and  a  family  would  be  fit  for  an 
asylum  of  idiots,  where  the  rending  of  natural  ties  was  a  per- 
mitted subject  of  thought  or  conversation.  Let  it  be  the 
same  in  Oceana.  Let  separation  be  dismissed  into  silence  as 
a  horrible  thing,  'not  to  be  named  among  us,'  and  the  union 
is  already  made,  and  the  form  or  forms  which  it  may  assume 
may  be  loft  to  time  and  circumstance  to  shape  and  reshape. 
Nature  could  make  no  organic  thing — not  a  plant,  not  a 
flower,  not  a  man — if  she  began  with  the  form.  She  begins 
with  the  life  in  the  seed,  which  she  leaves  to  work  ;  and  what 
the  life  is  in  natural  objects,  the  will  and  determination  is  in 
the  arrangements  of  human  society. 

Feelings  of  this  kind  rise  in  every  Englishman  when  he 
sets  foot  on  American  soil — something  of  envy,  but  more 
of  pride,  and  more  still  of  admiration.  The  Americans  are 
the  English  reproduced  in  a  new  sphere.  What  they  have 
done,  we  can  do.  The  Americans  are  a  generation  before  us 
in  the  growth  of  democracy,  and  events  have  proved  that 
democracy  does  not  mean  disunion. 

I  had  already  seen  the  Eastern  States,  but  California  was 
new  to  me.  California  with  its  gold  and  its  cornfields,  its 
conifers  and  its  grizzlies,  its  diggers  and  its  hidalgos,  its 
'  heathen  Chinese  '  and  its  Yankee  millionaires,  was  a  land  of 
romance,  the  wonders  of  which  passed  belief,  and  it  was  with 
a  sort  of  youthful  excitement  that  I  found  myself  landed  at 
Fiasco.  The  prosaic  asserted  itself  there  as  elsewhere. 
There  were  customs'  officers  and  a  searching  of  portmanteaus. 
This  over,  we  had  to  find  our  quarters.  We  were  on  a  long- 
platform,  roofed  over  like  a  railway  station,  and  within  the 
precincts  the  public  were  not  admitted.  At  the  far  end  was 
a  large  open  door,  and  outside  a  mob  of  human  creatures, 
pushing,  scrambling,  and  howling  like  the  beasts  in  a  meua- 


358  Oceana. 

gerie  at  feeding  time.  There  they  were  in  hundreds,  waiting 
to  plunge  upon  us,  and  (if  they  did  not  tear  us  in  pieces  in 
the  process)  to  carry  us  off  to  one  or  other  of  the  rival  cara- 
vanserais. Never  did  I  hear  such  a  noise,  save  in  an  Irish 
fair  ;  never  was  I  in  such  a  scuffle.  We  had  to  fight  for  our 
lives,  for  our  luggage,  and  for  our  dollars,  if  the  Philistines 
were  not  to  spoil  us  utterly.  All,  however,  was  at  last  safely 
and  reasonably  accomplished.  We  were  driven  away  to  the 
Palace  Hotel,  where  the  storm  turned  to  calm,  and  my  ac- 
quaintance with  California  and  its  ways  was  practically  to 
commence. 

The  Palace  Hotel  at  San  Francisco  is,  I  believe,  the  largest 
in  the  world — the  largest,  but  by  no  means  the  ugliest,  as  I 
had  expected  to  find.  It  is  a  vast  quadrilateral  building, 
seven  or  eight  storeys  high,  but  in  fair  proportions.  You 
enter  under  a  handsome  archway,  and  you  find  yourself  in  a 
central  court,  as  in  the  hotels  at  Paris,  but  completely  roofed 
over  with  glass.  The  floor  is  of  polished  stone.  Tiers  of 
galleries  run  round  it,  tier  above  tier,  and  two  lifts  are 
in  constant  action,  which  deposit  you  on  the  floor  to  which 
you  are  consigned.  There  is  no  gaudiness  or  tinseL  The 
taste  in  California  is  generally  superior  to  what  you  see  in 
New  York.  I  expected  the  prices  of  New  York,  or  of  Auckland 
or  Sydney.  Money  was  reported  to  flow  in  rivers  there,  and 
other  things  to  be  dear  in  proportion.  I  was  agreeably  dis- 
appointed. Our  apartments — mine  and  my  son's — consisted 
of  a  sitting-room  au  troisieme,  so  large  that  a  bed  in  it  was 
no  inconvenience  ;  a  deep  alcove  with  another  bed,  divided 
off  by  glass  doors ;  a  dressing-room  and  a  bath-room,  with 
the  other  accompaniments.  Our  meals  were  in  the  great 
dining-room  at  fixed  hours,  but  with  a  liberal  time  allowance. 
We  could  order  our  dinners  and  breakfasts  from  the  carte, 
with  as  large  a  choice  and  quality  as  excellent  as  one  could 
order  in  the  Palais  Royal,  if  one  was  regardless  of  expense. 


Opinions  on  a  Russian  War.  359 

Unnumbered  niggers  attended  in  full  dress — white  waistcoat, 
white  neckcloth,  with  the  consequentially  deferential  manners 
of  a  duke's  master  of  the  household  ;  and  for  all  this  sump- 
tuosity  we  were  charged  three  dollars  and  a  half  each,  or 
about  fifteen  shillings.  Nowhere  in  Europe,  nowhere  else  in 
America,  can  one  be  lodged  and  provided  for  on  such  a  scale 
and  on  such  terms — and  this  was  California. 

The  interviewers  fell  early  upon  me,  but  they  were  good- 
natured  and  not  too  idly  curious,  and  on  this  occasion  they 
had  a  reasonable  excuse.  A  month  had  gone  since  our  last 
news  from  England.  War  had  not  yet  broken  out,  but  there 
had  been  the  fight  at  Pendjeh,  and  a  peaceful  settlement  was 
supposed  to  be  all  but  impossible.  They  wanted  to  know 
what  I  thought  about  it  all.  I  told  them  that  there  was  no  oc- 
casion for  a  war,  that  my  countrymen  were  reasonable  people, 
and  that  I  could  not  believe  that  they  would  go  in  for  such 
a  thing  without  stronger  justification  ;  but  others,  I  said, 
thought  differently  and  I  might  easily  be  mistaken,  and  I 
asked  in  turn  what  was  the  feeling  in  America.  I  found  that 
Americans  were  taking  a  practical  view  of  the  thing — were 
considering  how,  if  war  broke  out,  they  could  recover  the 
carrying  trade,  and  how  fast  an  Act  could  be  hurried  through 
Congress  permitting  foreign  vessels  to  be  sailed  under  the 
American  flag.  Apart  from  this,  opinion  was  divided.  There 
was  good-will  to  the  old  country,  and  a  hope  that  she  would 
come  well  out  of  the  scrape.  There  was  a  recollection  also  that 
Russia  was  the  only  European  Power  which  had  shown  good- 
will to  the  North  in  the  Civil  War,  and  they  were  still  grate- 
ful. The  prevailing  sentiment  was  that  war  ought  to  be 
avoided  ;  that  if  it  came,  both  sides  would  be  to  blame  ;  and 
there  was  no  enthusiasm  for  either. 

I  was  myself  deluged  with  advices  where  I  was  to  go  in  the 
State,  and  what  I  was  to  see.  Especially,  and  with  '  damna- 
ble iteration,'  I  was  warned  that  I  must  in  no  case  leave  it 


360  Oceana. 

without  visiting  the  big  trees  and  the  Yosemite  Valley.  1 
had  seen  even  bigger  trees  in  Victoria.  I  avoid  always, 
when  I  can,  going  of  set  purpose  to  see  sights  of  any 
kind.  I  can  admire  beautiful  objects  when  they  come  upon 
me  in  the  natural  order  of  things,  but  I  cannot  command 
the  proper  emotions  when  I  go  deliberately  in  search  of 
them.  This  Yosemite  Valley  was  so  battered  into  my  ears 
that  I  grew  impatient,  and  said  that  I  would  rather  go  a 
thousand  miles  to  talk  to  one  sensible  man,  than  walk  to  the 
end  of  the  street  for  the  finest  view  in  America — a  speech 
which  was  to  cost  me  dear,  for  it  appeared  in  print  the  next 
morning,  and  one  gentleman  after  another  came  up  and  said  : 
'  Sir,  encouraged  by  words  of  yours  which  I  have  just  read,' 
&c.,  '  I  venture  to  introduce  myself ; '  whether  he  was  the 
sensible  man,  or  I  was  the  sensible  man,  being  left  uncertain. 
But  to  return  to  the  Golden  City.  Americans  are  very 
good  to  strangers,  and  the  Califcrnians  are  in  this  respect  the 
best  of  Americans.  An  agreeable  and  accomplished  Mr. 

G ,  who  had  come  from  New  Zealand  with  us,  lived  in 

San  Francisco.  He  was  kind  enough  to  take  me  in  charge, 
and  show  me,  not  trees  and  rocks,  but  things  and  people. 
The  Chinese  quarter  is  to  Englishmen  the  principal  object  of 
attraction.  They  go  there  at  night  under  a  guard  .of  police, 
for  it  is  lawless  and  dangerous.  Had  I  known  any  of  the 
Chinese  themselves,  who  would  have  shown  me  the  better 
side  of  them,  I  should  have  been  willing  to  go.  But  I  did 
not  care  to  go  among  human  beings  as  if  they  were  wild 
beasts,  and  stare  at  opium  orgies  and  gambling-hells.  Par- 
ties of  us  did  go,  and  they  said  they  were  delighted.  I  went 

with  Mr.  G about  the  streets.     The  first  place  I  look  for 

in  a  new  city  is  the  market.  One  sees  the  natural  produce 
of  all  kinds  gathered  there.  One  sees  what  people  buy  on 
the  spot  and  '  consume  on  the  premises,'  as  distinct  from 
what  is  raised  for  export.  One  learns  the  cost  of  things,  and 


Scenes  in  San  Francisco.  361 

can  form  one's  own  estimate  of  the  manner  in  which  the 
country  people  occupy  themselves,  and  how  they  are  able  to 
live.  The  market-place  in  San  Francisco  told  its  story  in  a 
moment.  Vegetables  and  fruits,  the  finest  that  I  ever  saw 
exposed  for  sale,  were  at  half  the  English  prices.  Meat  was 
at  half  the  English  price.  I  lunched  on  oysters,  plump  and 
delicate  as  the  meal-fattened  Colchester  natives  used  to  be, 
at  a  cent  (a  halfpenny)  a  piece.  Salmon  were  lying  out  on 
the  marble  slabs,  caught  within  two  hours  in  the  Sacramento 
Kiver,  superb  as  ever  came  from  Tay  or  Tweed,  for  three 
cents  a  pound. 

From  the  market  we  went  to  the  clubs,  where  the  men 
would  be  found  who  were  carrying  on  the  business  of  this  late- 
born  but  immense  emporium — bankers,  merchants,  politic- 
ians The  Eastern  question,  the  Egyptian  business,  &c.,  were 
discussed  in  the  cool  incisive  American  manner,  and  the  opin- 
ions expressed  were  not  favourable  to  our  existing  methods 
of  administration.  How  we  had  come  to  fall  into  such  a  state 
of  distraction  seemed  to  be  understood  with  some  distinct- 
ness, but  less  distinctly  how  we  were  to  get  out  of  it.  In  the 
Bohemian  Club  the  tone  was  lighter  and  brighter.  We  do 
not  live  for  politics  alone,  nor  for  business  alone.  The  Bohe- 
mian Club  was  founded,  I  believe,  by  Bret  Harte,  and  is  com- 
posed of  lawyers,  artists,  poets,  musicians,  men  of  genius, 
who  in  the  sunshine  and  exuberant  fertility  of  California, 
were  brighter,  quicker,  and  less  bitterly  in  earnest  than  their 
severe  fellow-countrymen  of  the  Eastern  States.  It  was  the 
American  temperament,  but  with  a  difference.  Dollars,  per- 
haps, are  easily  come  by  in  that  happy  country,  and  men  think 
less  of  them,  and  more  of  human  life,  and  how  it  can  best  be 
spent  and  enjoyed.  If  Horace  were  brought  to  life  again  in 
the  New  World,  he  would  look  for  a  farm  in  California  and  be 
a  leading  Bohemian.  The  pictures  in  the  drawing-room, 
painted  by  one  or  other  of  themselves,  had  all  something  new 


362  Oceana. 

and  original  about  them,  reminding  me  of  Harte's  writings. 
In  the  summer  weather  the  club  takes  to  tents,  migrates  to 
the  forest,  and  holds  high  jinks  in  Dionysic  fashion.  There 
was  a  clever  sketch  of  one  of  these  festivals  in  the  abandon- 
ment of  intellectual  riot.  It  is  likely  enough  that  some  orig- 
inal school  of  American  art  may  start  up  in  California.  Their 
presiding  genius  at  the  club  is  PaUas  Athene  in  the  shape  of 
an  owl ;  but,  for  some  reason  which  they  could  not,  or  would 
not,  explain  to  me,  she  has  one  eye  shut. 

The  city  generally  is  like  other  American  cities.  It  has 
grown  like  a  mushroom,  and  there  has  been  no  leisure  to  build 
anything  durable  or  beautiful.  A  few  years  ago  the  houses 
were  mainly  of  wood.  The  footways  in  the  streets  are  laid 
with  boards  still,  but  are  gradually  transforming  themselves. 
The  sense  of  beauty  will  come  by-and-by,  and  they  do  well 
not  to  be  in  a  hurry.  The  millionaires  have  constructed  pal- 
atial residences  for  themselves,  on  the  high  grounds  above 
the  smoke.  The  country  towards  the  ocean  is  taken  charge 
of  by  the  municipality.  A  fine  park  has  been  laid  out,  with 
forcing  houses  and  gardens  and  carriage-drives.  Near  it  is  a 
cemetery,  beside  which  ours  at  Brompton  would  look  vulgar 
and  hideous.  Let  me  say  here,  that  nowhere  in  Am  erica  have 
I  met  with  vulgarity  in  its  proper  sense.  Vulgarity  lies  in  man- 
ners unsuited  to  the  condition  of  life  to  which  you  belong.  A 
lady  is  vulgar  when  she  has  the  manners  of  a  kitchen  maid,  the 
kitchen  maid  is  vulgar  when  she  affects  the  manners  of  a  lady. 
Neither  is  vulgar  so  long  as  she  is  contented  to  be  herself. 
In  America  there  is  no  difference  of  '  station,'  and  therefore 
everyone  is  satisfied  with  his  own  and  has  no  occasion  to  affect 
anything.  There  is  a  dislike  of  makeshifts  in  the  Californians. 
Greenbacks  and  shin-plasters  have  no  currency  among  them. 
If  you  go  for  money  to  a  bank  at  San  Francisco,  they  give 
you,  instead  of  dirty  paper,  massive  gold  twenty-dollar  pieces, 
large  and  heavy  as  medals,  and  so  handsome  that  one  is  un- 


San  Francisco.  363 

willing  to  break  them.  They  are  never  in  haste,  and  there  is 
a  composure  about  them  which  seems  to  say  that  they  belong 
to  a  great  nation  and  that  their  position  is  assured.  I  ob- 
served at  San  Francisco,  and  I  have  observed  elsewhere  in 
America,  that  they  have  not  the  sporting  taste  so  universal  in 
England.  They  shoot  their  bears,  they  shoot  their  deer,  in 
the  way  of  business,  as  they  make  their  pigs  into  bacon  ;  but 
they  can  see  a  strange  bird  or  a  strange  animal  without  wish- 
ing immediately  to  kill  it.  Indeed,  killing  for  its  own  sake, 
or  even  killing  for  purpose  of  idle  ornament,  does  not  seem  to 
give  them  particular  pleasure.  The  great  harbour  swarms 
with  seals  ;  you  see  them  lifting  their  black  faces  to  stare  at 
the  passing  steamers,  as  if  they  knew  that  they  were  in  no 
danger  of  being  molested.  There  is  a  rock  in  the  ocean  close 
to  the  shore,  seven  miles  from  the  city.  The  seals  lie  about 
it  in  hundreds,  and  roll  and  bark  and  take  life  as  pleasantly 
as  the  crowds  who  gather  on  holidays  to  look  at  them.  No 
one  ever  shoots  at  these  harmless  creatures.  Men  and  seals 
can  live  at  peace  side  by  side  in  California.  I  doubt  if  as 
much  could  be  said  of  any  British  possession  in  the  world. 
Perhaps  killing  is  an  aristocratic  instinct,  which  the  rest  imi- 
tate, and  democracy  may  by-and-by  make  a  difference. 

In  short,  California  is  a  pleasant  country,  with  good  people 
in  it.  If  one  had  to  live  one's  life  over  again,  one  might  do 
worse  than  make  one's  home  there.  For  a  poor  man  it  is 
better  than  even  Victoria  and  New  South  Wales,  for  not  the 
necessaries  of  life  only  are  cheap  there,  but  the  best  of  its 
luxuries.  The  grapes  are  like  the  clusters  of  Eshcol.  The 
wine,  already  palatable,  is  on  the  way  to  becoming  admirable 
and  as  accessible  to  a  light  purse  as  it  used  to  be  in  Spain. 
I  ate  there  the  only  really  good  oranges  which  I  have  tasted 
for  many  years — good  as  those  which  we  used  to  get  before 
the  orange-growers  went  in  for  average  sorts  and  heavy  bear- 
ers, and  the  greatest  h'appiness  of  the  greatest  number. 


364  Oceania. 

When  everything  of  every  sort  that  one  meets  with,  even 
down  to  the  nigger  waiter  at  the  hotel,  is  excellent  in  its  kind, 
one  may  feel  pretty  well  satisfied  that  the  morality,  &c.,  is  in 
good  condition  also.  All  our  worst  vices  now-a-days  grow 
out  of  humbug. 

This  was  the  impression  which  California  left  on  me  during 
my  brief  passage  through  it  Had  I  stayed  longer,  I  should, 
of  course,  have  found  much  to  add  of  a  less  pleasant  kind,  and 
something  to  correct.  Life  evez'ywhere  is  like  tapestry-work 
— the  outside  only  is  meant  to  be  seen,  the  loose  tags  and 
ends  of  thread  are  left  hanging  on  the  inner  face.  I  describe 
it  as  it  looked  to  me,  and  I  was  sorry  when  the  time  came  for 
me  to  be  again  on  the  move. 

We  were  to  cross  the  continent  by  the  Pacific  Kailway — a 
jouruey,  if  one  keeps  on  at  it,  of  seven  days  and  seven  nights 
from  San  Francisco  to  New  York.  One  can  break  it — and 
one  is  advised  to  break  it  if  one  wishes  to  arrive  sane  in  mind 
and  body — at  Salt  Lake  City,  at  Chicago,  or  at  both. 

The  original  trunk  line  has  thrown  out  lateral  branches, 
which  strike  north  or  south,  and  sweep  through  vast  ranges 
of  new  country,  rejoining  the  principal  stem  east  of  the  Miss- 
issippi. Trains  through  to  New  York  run  on  all  these  divi- 
sions. There  are  rival  companies,  and  the  agent  of  each  assures 
you  that  his  line  is  the  shortest,  cheapest,  easiest,  and  most 
interesting.  He  produces  his  maps  to  prove  it  to  you,  where 
his  own  line,  which  may  in  reality  be  sinuous  as  the  track  of 
a  snake,  is  represented  as  if  drawn  by  a  ruler,  and  his  adver- 
saries' line,  which  may  be  straight  as  Euclid's  definition,  is 
bent  into  a  right  angle.  Even  in  San  Francisco  it  appeared 
that  people  could  lie  to  some,  and  indeed  to  a  considerable, 
extent.  I  could  only  hope  that  these  agents  were  not  Cali- 
fornian-bred,  Tout  an  imported  article.  The  trunk  line,  how- 
ever, went  singly  as  far  as  Ogden,  on  the  edge  of  the  Great 
Salt  Lake,  and  proceeded  thence  north-east  through  Omaha 


The  Pacific  Railway.  365 

to  Chicago.  Another  line  branched  off  south  at  Ogden,  went 
through  the  Mormon  city  and  the  Territory  of  Utah,  crossed 
the  Rocky  Mountains,  and  descended  by  the  Eio  Grande  to 
Denver  ;  thence  turning  back  northward  again  it  rejoined  the 
main  line  at  the  Pacific  Junction.  Whether  this  line  was,  as 
the  agents  insisted,  the  shorter  of  the  two,  might  or  might 
not  be  true.  But  it  was  reported  to  be  the  most  picturesque, 
the  engineering  in  the  Rio  Grande  Canon  to  be  a  triumph  of 
mechanical  genius,  &c.,  while  it  would  give  us  a  chance  of  see- 
ing what  the  famous  Mormons  were  doing,  not  on  a  single 
spot,  but  in  the  wide  territory  over  which  they  were  now 
spreading.  We  decided,  therefore,  for  the  line  of  the  Rio 
Grande  and  the  Canon,  and  made  our  preparations  accord- 
ingly- 

The  accommodation  on  all  the  routes  is  the  same.  The  car- 
riages are  long,  high,  and  spacious,  ventilated  well  from 
the  top,  and  warmed  with  stoves  in  cold  weather.  Each  of 
them  has  minor  compartments  at  both  ends — at  one,  a  wash- 
ing-room and  smoking-room  for  the  men  ;  at  the  other,  a 
dressing-room  for  ladies.  The  beds  stretch  along  the  sides 
in  two  tiers.  The  upper  tier  folds  up  in  the  daytime,  and  is 
let  down  at  night.  The  under  tier  is  formed  by  an  ingenious 
rearrangement  of  the  ordinary  seats.  The  berths  so  contrived 
are  nearly  three  feet  wide,  and  are  as  comfortable  as  could  in 
reason  be  expected,  and  each  pair  has  a  heavy  leather  curtain 
hung  in  front  of  them.  At  night,  when  man  and  woman  has 
retired  to  his  den  and  hers,  you  see  only  a  long  narrow  pas- 
sage between  leather  walls,  weU  lighted  by  lamps,  up  and 
down  which  the  black  sentinels  of  the  train  slowly  parade. 
When  the  first  sensation  of  novelty  is  over,  sleep  will  act  like 
its  capricious  self,  which  comes  when  least  expected,  and 
stays  as  it  chooses,  irrespective  of  circumstances.  Over  part 
of  the  line  there  is  a  special  feeding  carriage,  where  one  can 
breakfast  and  dine  as  in  an  hotel ;  over  the  rest,  the  trains 


366  Ocama. 

halt  for  meals  three  times  a  day,  -with  other  pauses  of  ten 
minutes  every  fifty  or  sixty  miles  ;  and  thus  the  6,000  miles 
of  journey  are  got  over  very  tolerably  by  those  who  are  used 
to  it.  Those  who  are  not  used  to  it  are  warned  to  take  a  rest 
at  intervals. 

The  starting-point  is  some  miles  distant  from  San  Francisco, 
on  the  far  side  of  a  wide  arm  of  the  buy.  We  crossed  over 
in  a  steamer  crowded  with  passengers.  Two  large  trains 
were  to  start  at  the  same  hour,  one  east — which  was  to  be 
ours  ;  another  to  Lower  California  and  the  south,  which 
ought  to  have  been  ours  had  I  obeyed  orders  and  gone  to  the 
Yosemite  valley. 

We  found  our  places,  not  without  difficulty ;  our  tickets 
were  wrongly  numbered ;  we  were  ejected  from  our  seats 
after  we  had  started  by  other  claimants,  and  we  had  to  be 
moved  into  another  carriage  ;  but  the  change  was  managed 
without  stopping  the  train.  The  American  carriages  open  at 
each  end  with  a  platform  outside,  and  you  can  walk  from  one 
to  the  other.  Everybody  is  very  civil  on  such  occasions,  but 
you  have  to  conform  to  regulations,  though  you  are  in  a  land 
of  liberty. 

All  was  right  at  last,  and  we  settled  down  into  our  corners 
and  looked  about  us.  There  were  no  empty  places,  all  seats 
were  full,  and  many  of  them  were  occupied  by  fellow-passen- 
gers from  the  'Australia.'  Boys  passed  incessantly  to  and 
fro  in  the  train,  with  trays  of  books,  newspapers,  fruits, 
cakes,  or  sweetmeats,  of  which  the  Americans  seem  inordi- 
nately fond.  The  windows  were  open,  and  outside  them  was 
a  beautiful  sunny  afternoon,  warm  as  in  an  English  June. 
The  railway  followed  the  course  of  a  broad  deep  river  ;  cross- 
ing and  recrossing  it,  among  rich  meadows,  farms,  orchards, 
and  those  boundless  Californian  wheat-fields  which  are  bring- 
ing ruin  on  the  English  landed  interest.  The  wheat  was  in 
the  blade,  and  brilliantly  green.  The  fruit-trees  were  in 


TJie  Sierra  Nevada.  367 

blossom,  and  the  vines  in  full  leaf ;  and  the  same  aspect  of 
luxuriant  fertility  continued  till  we  had  passed  Sacramento 
City,  and  night  fell  and  the  stars  came  out,  and  we  began 
slowly  to  ascend  the  slope  of  the  mountain  barrier  which 
divides  California  from  the  rest  of  the  world. 

We  stood  out  long  on  the  platform,  watching  the  change 
of  landscape  into  rock  and  forest.  The  air  at  last  grew  chill}-. 
We  climbed  into  our  roosting-places,  and  we  woke  at  daybreak 
eight  thousand  feet  above  the  sea,  on  the  crest  of  the  Sierra 
Nevada.  We  could  see  little.  For  thirty  miles  we  were  in 
an  almost  continuous  gallery  of  snow-sheds,  through  the 
chinks  of  which  gleams  of  daylight  shone  like  electric  sparks. 
At  the  rare  openings,  we  perceived  that  we  were  among  moun- 
tain ridges,  black  with  pines,  the  stems  of  which  were  buried 
in  snow,  while  the  high  peaks  over  our  heads  were  wrapped 
in  a  white  winding-sheet.  The  long  tunnel  ended  when  we 
passed  the  watershed.  Thence,  skirting  magnificent  ravines, 
and  following  a  torrent  which  ran  down  out  of  a  lake  in  the 
Sierra,  we  descended  about  three  thousand  feet  to  a  solitary 
station,  where  we  stopped  for  breakfast.  All  was  desolate. 
One  notable  thing  only  we  observed  there — trout  which  we 
took  for  salmon,  twenty  pounds  in  weight,  bred  in  the  lake, 
and  caught  all  down  the  river,  the  fish  taken  out  of  it  being 
worth  more,  I  was  told,  than  the  produce  of  the  best  ranches 
on  its  banks. 

Leaving  this,  we  struck  across  the  great  American  desert, 
Indian  territory,  a  boundless  plain  stretching  for  six  hundi-ed 
miles,  nothing  growing  there  save  a  miserable  scanty  scrub, 
as  if  on  a  soil  that  was  sown  with  salt.  It  is  left,  I  suppose, 
to  the  Redskins,  because  no  white  man  could  make  a  living 
there.  We  saw  some  of  the  descendants  of  the  ancient  red 
warriors,  when  we  halted  to  water  the  engines.  The  women 
brought  their  papooses  in  little  box-cradles,  swathed  like 
Egyptian  mummies  ;  the  men  dangling  after  them,  and  all 


368  Oceana. 

begging.  The  passengers  flung  them  a  few  cents.  Here, 
too,  the  contact  with  civilisation  had  done  its  universal  work. 
These  poor  wretches,  who  seemed  less  human,  because  less 
savage,  than  the  African  bushmen,  were  the  last  representa- 
tives of  Cooper's  Uncas  and  Chingachook.  All  that  day  we 
travelled  on  in  wearisome  monotony  ;  no  sign  of  life  anywhere 
save  a  blue  rabbit,  which  sate  staring  at  the  train ;  two  or 
three  small  creatures  slipping  behind  bushes,  which  might  be 
prairie  dogs  ;  on  the  wing  nothing,  except  when  we  passed  a 
long  solitary  marsh  pool,  half-covered  with  green  reeds,  where 
half  a  dozen  large  white  birds  were  sailing  slowly  over  the 
water  ;  cranes  or  swans,  I  know  not  which,  but  with  the 
swan's  grand  regal  sweep.  The  second  night  closed  in,  and 
we  were  still  in  the  wilderness.  Telegraph  wires,  however, 
kept  us  company,  and  just  at  dark  a  newsboy  dashed  in  with 
sheets  fresh  from  a  wayside  press,  and  the  morning's  mes- 
sage from  London.  '  Guess  you're  going  to  fight,'  he  said  to 
me,  with  a  mixture  of  contempt  and  entertainment. 

In  the  morning  we  were  at  Ogden,  a  rising  town  at  the 
north  end  of  the  Great  Salt  Lake,  foiiy  miles  from  Brigham 
Young's  city  of  the  Saints.  Brigham  is  now  dead.  His  wives 
are  scattered,  his  place  is  filled  by  a  new  vicar  of  the  Almighty, 
but  the  evangel  is  believed  as  vigorously  as  ever.  The  lake 
itself  is  a  great  inland  sea,  salter  than  the  ocean,  seventy  miles 
long  and  five  thousand  feet  above  the  ocean  level.  It  is  en- 
tirely surrounded  by  mountains,  the  peaks,  though  it  was  the 
end  of  April,  covered  far  down  with  snow,  the  base  of  them  a 
rich,  deep  violet,  and  the  water  a  greenish-blue.  The  scene 
was  beautiful,  even  to  us,  who  were  fresh  from  New  Zealand. 
Flights  of  gulls  were  hovering  about,  brought  thither  by  fish 
of  some  kind  ;  but  how  fish  came  there  which  gulls  would 
eat,  and  what  manner  of  fish  they  might  be,  neither  guide- 
book nor  American  fellow-travellers  could  tell  us. 

They  were  all  talking  about  the  Mormons,  however  ;  and 


The  Mormons.  369 

the  problem  of  what  was  to  be  done  with  them  exercised  the 
American  mind  much.  For  the  Mormons  are  prospering  ; 
rising  up  like  a  kite  in  the  wind's  eye  and  in  the  teeth  of 
modern  enlightenment.  They  have  spread  through  the  whole 
territory  of  Utah,  and  are  flowing  over  into  the  adjoining 
States.  The  peculiar  institution  is  going  along  with  them, 
and  in  greater  favour  than  ever,  being  fast  rooted  in  the  sup- 
erstition and  sanctioned  specially  by  a  new  revelation,  so  that 
all  right-minded  Americans  are  as  conscious  of  the  scandal  as 
they  used  to  be  about  slavery.  The  polygamy  is  not,  as  I  had 
supposed,  universal.  It  is  a  prerogative  allowed  by  the  Al- 
mighty to  a  few  only  of  the  holiest  elders,  and  the  women 
prefer,  it  seems,  a  share  in  the  favours  of  one  sanctified  old 
gentleman  to  a  partnership,  however  attractive  otherwise, 
with  a  single  husband,  because  an  elder's  wives  will  take  pre- 
cedence of  all  other  ladies  in  Paradise.  A  decree  has  been 
obtained  at  last  from  the  Supreme  Court  of  the  United  States, 
declaring  a  polygamist  incapable  of  holding  office,  and  poly- 
gamy itself  a  criminal  offence.  My  companions  assured  me 
with  emphasis  that  it  would  be  acted  on,  and  that  an  abomina- 
tion as  bad  as  slavery,  or  worse,  would  now  be  put  down  with 
a  high  hand.  But  the  Mormons  have  not  threatened  to 
secede  from  the  Union,  and  as  long  as  the  wives  are  satisfied 
and  enter  the  elders'  harems  of  their  own  free  will,  it  is  not 
easy,  in  a  country  which  boasts  of  the  individual  freedom 
which  it  aDows  to  everyone,  to  interfere  by  force.  The  Mor- 
mons, it  is  said,  would  resist  desperately,  and  another  civil 
war  would  be  a  disgrace,  almost  as  great  as  the  institution 
itself.  Moderate  people  would  prefer  to  wait  till  the  Gentiles, 
of  whom  many  are  now  settled  on  the  Salt  Lake,  obtain  a  ma- 
jority, when  a  custom  out,  of  harmony  with  the  age,  they  con- 
sider, will  die  of  itself.  Joe  Smith  murdered  proved  more  for- 
midable than  a  Joe  Smith  left  alive  to  get  drunk  and  prophesy 
would  ever  have  been,  and  the  lesson  has  not  been  forgotten. 
24 


370  Oceana. 

The  line  from  Ogden  to  Denver  passed  directly  through  the 
sacred  city.  As  we  approached,  some  stranger  put  in  my 
hands  a  book  of  the  latest  revelations,  modelled  by  Mormon 
intellect  on  the  pattern  of  the  Old  Testament  '  I  say  unto 
thee,  Joseph  Smith,  Junior,  my  servant,  I  am  the  Lord,  stand 
up  and  hear  me.  Behold,  I  send  thee  to  my  people  to  say 
unto  them' — and  then  follows  some  new  order  about  the 
elders'  wives. 

The  idea  of  the  buried  gold  plates  on  which  Joe  Smith  the 
First  declared  that  he  found  the  first  book,  was  borrowed 
from  Lucian,  whose  false  Prophet  of  Galatia  pretended  to 
have  dug  up  plates  near  Byzantium  on  which  were  written 
the  revelations  of  Apollo.  How  Joe  Smith  knew  anything 
about  Lucian  is  another  mystery,  but  the  whole  thing  is  an 
extraordinary  paradox.  Not  spiritualism,  not  table-rapping 
or  planchette-writing,  exceed  Mormonism  in  apparent  absur- 
dity. Yet  hundreds  of  thousands  of  men  and  women  believe 
in  it  as  a  new  communication  sent  from  heaven,  and — as  is 
far  more  strange — in  worldly  wisdom,  in  practical  understand- 
ing, in  industry,  patience,  and  all  the  minor  virtues  which 
command  success  in  life,  neither  America  nor  our  own  colon- 
ies can  produce  superiors  to  them.  The  plain  of  the  Salt 
Lake,  when  Brigham  Young  halted  his  caravans  there  after 
the  pilgrimage  through  the  desert,  was  bare  as  the  shores  of 
the  Dead  Sea.  From  the  Snow  Mountains  and  from  the 
sweet  Lake  of  Utah,  they  brought  fertilising  streams  of  fresh 
water  and  poured  it  over  the  soil.  They  fenced  and  drained, 
they  ploughed  and  sowed,  they  built  and  planted  ;  and  now 
literally  the  wilderness  is  made  to  blossom  like  the  rose.  Our 
train  ran  on  among  orchards  of  peach  and  almond,  pink  with 
the  early  blossoms.  The  fields,  far  as  one  could  see,  were 
cleanly  and  completely  cultivated,  and  green  with  the  promise 
of  abundant  harvests.  Cattle,  sheep,  and  horses  were  graz- 
ing in  hundreds.  The  houses  were  neat  and  well-constructed, 


A  Mistake.  371 

each  with  a  well-kept  garden  round  it.  Place  and  people 
formed  a  perfect  model  of  a  thriving  industrial  settlement, 
and  all  this  had  grown  in  a  single  generation  from  what,  to 
human  intelligence,  is  the  wildest  absurdity,  initiated  by  de- 
liberate fraud.  One  can  only  conclude  that  man  is  himself  a 
very  absurd  creature. 

I  did  not  care  to  observe  Mormonism  any  closer.  We  re- 
mained half  an  hour  at  the  city  station.  We  saw  at  a  distance 
the  famous  tabernacle,  like  a  huge  turtle-shell,  '  with  the  finest 
organ  in  the  world.'  We  went  on  leaving  the  New  Jerusalem 
behind  us,  but  not  the  proselytes  of  the  faith.  For  hundreds 
of  miles  we  saw  the  fruits  of  the  newest  '  religion  '  in  the 
plantations,  in  the  careful  husbandly,  in  the  wholesome  and 
substantial  aspect  of  the  farms  and  dwelling-houses.  At  Utah, 
where  we  dined,  I  supposed  myself  to  have  fallen  into  actual 
contact  with  the  peculiar  institution  itself.  The  room  pre- 
pared for  us  was  neat  and  nice,  and  the  food  admirable.  Be- 
hind a  desk  sate  the  master  of  the  establishment,  a  middle- 
aged  man  in  spectacles,  with  serious  aspect.  We  were  waited 
upon  by  two  innocent-looking,  extremely  pretty  girls.  I  con- 
cluded that  here  was  an  elder  in  person,  and  that  these  were 
two  of  his  wives,  and  I  looked  at  him  with  repressed  indigna- 
tion. It  was  an  illustration  of  how  unjust  we  may  be  with 
the  best  intentions.  I  learnt,  on  inquiry,  that  the  poor  man 
was  a  Gentile  of  exceptionally  high  character,  and  that  the 
two  young  ladies  were  his  daughters. 

After  Utah  the  Rocky  Mountains  were  before  us,  and  we 
began  to  ascend.  Up  and  up  we  went,  following  rivers, 
through  valley  and  canon  and  scenery  more  magnificent  every 
hour.  The  snow  lay  deeper  as  we  rose,  till  in  the  drifts  the 
tops  of  the  pines  were  almost  buried.  The  torrents  were  in 
their  glory,  for  the  sun  was  gathering  power,  and  the  thaw  of 
the  spring  had  commenced.  We  zigzagged  along  the  moun- 
tain-sides, drawn  now  by  three  powerful  engines.  We  crossed 


372  Oceana. 

ravines  at  their  heads,  and  doubled  back  at  higher  levels,  see- 
ing far  below  us  the  line  over  which  we  had  passed.  At  the 
highest  point  we  were  eleven  thousand  feet  above  the  sea. 
There,  as  a  crowning  triumph,  the  rock  was  tunnelled.  The 
sides  of  the  tunnel  were  sheeted  with  ice,  and  icicles  hung 
from  the  roof  ;  but  even  at  that  height  they  were  melting  and 
the  temperature  was  several  degrees  above  freezing-point. 
We  went  down  as  we  had  come  up,  through  scenery  geologi- 
cally different,  but  equally  wild  and  picturesque.  Finally  we 
entered  the  fatuous  canon  of  the  Bio  Grande,  from  which  the 
line  takes  its  name — a  deep  chasm,  at  one  point  not  more  than 
ninety  feet  across,  the  walls  always  precipitous  and  sometimes 
perpendicular,  between  which  the  river  rushes  along  for  thirty 
miles.  To  have  carried  a  railway  down  such  a  place  is  counted 
as  an  engineering  achievement.  The  rock  on  the  left  bank 
has  been  blown  out  by  dynamite,  to  form  a  level  on  which  the 
rails  are  laid.  At  one  point  a  branch  of  the  canon  itself  is 
crossed  by  a  bridge,  the  iron  pillars  of  which  are  driven  into 
the  cliff  on  either  side. 

The  journey,  in  spite  of  scenery,  might  have  become  tedi- 
ous, but  it  was  enlivened  by  a  few  small  incidents.  A  little 
serves  to  amuse  on  such  occasions.  American  ladies  and 
gentlemen  came  and  went  at  diffei'ent  stages.  They  came  in 
one  day  and  left  us  the  next,  or  the  day  after.  Our  berths 
were  so  closely  packed  that  we  heard,  in  spite  of  ourselves, 
what  was  passing  behind  our  neighbours'  curtains.  A  young 
husband  was  reported  to  me  to  have  said  to  his  young  wife,  as 
they  were  dressing  (it  was  at  a  time  when  a  dining  car  was 
attached  and  breakfasts  could  be  ordered  on  board),  '  My 
dear,  do  you  feel  like  eggs  this  morning  ? ' 

Among  the  friends  who  had  come  with  us  from  Auckland 
was  an  English  gentleman,  Colonel  -  —  ;  high-bred,  refined 
—perhaps  extra-refined — whom  the  malice  of  fortune  played 
a  trick  upon.  Happily,  with  his  other  good  qualities,  he  had 


Railway  Travelling  in  America.  373 

a  keen  sense  of  humour,  and  enjoyed  what  befell  him  as 
much  as  we  did..  At  some  town  where  we  stopped  late  one 
night,  two  ladies  had  been  put  into  the  carriage  with  us. 
We  were  going  to  bed,  and  paid  no  attention  to  them.  The 

berth  under  Colonel happened  to  be  vacant.  To  one 

of  these  new  arrivals,  without  his  being  aware  of  it.  this 
berth  was  assigned  as  a  sleeping -place.  The  lady  gathered 
herself  in,  and  the  same  leather  curtain  fell  over  them  both. 
In  the  morning,  the  Colonel,  feeling  about  for  his  under- 
garments, dropped  his  drawers  by  accident  over  the  side  of 
his  bed.  From  below  he  saw  thrust  out  a  small,  dainty,  and 
perfectly  white  hand,  with  a  diamond  ring,  and  a  delicate 
lace  frill  round  the  wrist.  It  was  holding  up  the  article  in 
question,  and  a  brisk,  ringing  voice  said,  '  Guess  this  belongs 
to  you.' 

The  railway  officials  are  considerate  beyond  English  or 
European  experience.  In  the  train,  as  they  had  made  it  up 
at  Denver,  it  was  found  that  there  was  not  room  for  all  of  ua 
who  had  sleeping  tickets,  and  they  stopped  the  express  at  a 
siding  for  nearly  two  hours,  while  they  sent  back  for  another 
carriage.  Beyond  Denver  we  crossed  the  great  prairies, 
where  seven  years  ago  the  wild  buffalo  were  feeding  in 
thousands.  Now  there  was  not  a  hoof-mark  on  the  soil.  So 
far  as  we  could  see  from  the  Hue,  the  land  was  fenced  in  on 
either  side.  It  had  been  under  the  plough,  and  was  broken 
up  into  farms.  I  had  imagined  that  a  boundless  and  treeless 
plain,  with  infinite  capacity  for  wheat-growing,  could  never 
be  a  home  in  the  old-fashioned  sense  of  the  word  ;  and  I  had 
considered  mentally  what  childhood  must  be  in  such  a 
country,  and  what  kind  of  romance  boys  and  girls  could  find 
there  ;  but  human  souls  carry  their  romance  in  themselves, 
and  the  Wild  West  at  its  worst  may  be  a  fitter  place  for  a 
family  to  grow  in  than  a  suburb  of  London  or  Birmingham. 

Yet  dreary  the   prairies  are,   and  indeed  most  American 


374  Oceana. 

scenery  is  dreary  after  you  have  passed  the  Rocky  Mountains. 
Man  has  done  nothing  to  give  it  any  human  features.  He 
has  developed  the  productiveness  of  the  earth.  He  has  built 
mushroom-towns  upon  it,  and  overspread  it  with  a  meshwork 
of  railways.  But  man  does  not  live  by  bread  alone,  and  there 
was  little  grand  that  I  could  see  in  this  journey,  or  indeed 
have  ever  seen  (with  one  or  two  exceptions)  anywhere  in  the 
United  States,  except  the  indomitable  energy  of  the  Amer- 
icans themselves.  I  found  only  a  lightly  undulating  country, 
generally  open  and  uutimbered,  reclaimed  and  cultivated, 
and  bearing  crops  at  harvest  time ;  but  crops  sown  and 
reaped  by  machines,  and  at  intervals  the  contractor  built 
congregations  of  streets  of  brick  and  corrugated  iron,  called 
towns  or  cities,  which  have  made  hideous  so  much  of  our 
own  England.  Picturesqueness  of  nature,  grace  or  dignity, 
in  the  works  of  man  are  alike  absent.  The  forest  trees  are 
small  and  insignificant.  I  speak  of  the  east  of  the  Rocky 
Mountains.  The  rivers !  Yes,  the  Missouri  and  the  Missis- 
sippi are  grand  rivers,  if  bigness  makes  grandeur.  The 
mighty  volume  of  their  waters  rolls  on,  carrying  with  it  the 
rainfall  of  an  enormous  continent  ;  but  their  turbid  and 
yellow  streams,  fringed  with  unwholesome  pine-swamps, 
suggest  only  to  the  imagination  that  they  are  gigantic  drains. 
It  was  the  end  of  April,  almost  May,  when  I  passed  through, 
yet  winter  had  not  relaxed  its  bitter  grasp.  I  had  not  seen 
a  green  leaf,  scarcely  a  green  blade  of  grass,  since  we  left  the 
Salt  Lake.  It  must  be  with  the  Eastern  and  Middle  States 
as  they  say  of  Castile,  nueve  meses  del  Invierno  y  tres  del 
Inferno  (nine  months  of  winter  and  three  of  hell).  Winter  is 
long  and  harsh  :  summer  is  brief  and  burning.  Perhaps  my 
impressions  were  coloured  by  the  contrast  with  the  colonies 
which  I  had  left.  California  is  lovely,  as  Australia  or  New 
Zealand  ;  but  omitting  California,  which  never  belonged  to 
us,  I  could  not  help  saying  to  myself,  that  although  Oceana 


Chicago.  375 

no  longer  included  the  American  provinces,  she  had  yet 
within  the  circuit  of  her  empire  the  fairest  portion  of  the  late 
discovered  world. 

The  Northern  States  of  the  Union  have  produced  men. 
Finer  men  are  to  be  found  nowhere  upon  the  earth.  But 
they  work  as  they  do  because1  work  alone  can  make  life  tol- 
erable on  such  a  soil  and  in  such  a  climate.  The  sense  of 
sunny  enjoyment  is  not  in  them.  They  feel  the  dignity  of 
freedom,  and  the  worthiness  of  moral  virtue.  But  of  beauty 
the  sense  is  latent,  if  it  exists  at  all.  Let  the  Britisher  take 
heart.  The  race  will  vary  its  type  according  to  the  home  in 
which  it  is  planted.  The  Australian,  the  New  Zealander,  the 
Californian  will  have  as  much  in  them,  after  all,  of  the  an- 
cient '  Merry  England  '  as  the  severely  earnest  Northern  Amer- 
ican, who  remains  a  Puritan  at  the  bottom  of  his  heart, 
though  in  modern  shape. 

At  Chicago,  the  last  and  most  triumphant  of  his  achieve- 
ments, we  stayed  a  night  to  rest,  in  a  monstrous  hotel  in  a 
monstrous  city — monstrous,  for  it  has  no  organic  frame.  It 
grows  by  accretions,  as  coral  grows — house  upon  house,  street 
upon  street.  Through  Chicago  passes  the  trade  of  the  Lakes 
and  the  trade  of  the  great  West.  The  more  wheat  comes  out 
of  the  soil  and  the  bigger  the  litters  of  pigs,  the  larger  grows 
Chicago — the  highest  example  in  the  present  world  of  the 
tendency  of  modern  men  to  cluster  into  towns.  The  site  of 
it  is  low  and  flat.  The  shores  of  the  lake  on  which  it  stands 
are  low  all  round,  and  we  shivered  as  we  were  looking  at  the 
docks  in  the  nipping  wind  which  blew  across  from  Canada. 
The  city  is  impressive  from  its  vastness,  as  the  American 
rivers  are  impressive  ;  one  street,  I  was  told,  was  many  miles 
long.  The  stores  are  gigantic  ;  the  shops,  &c.,  are  large,  and 
as  if  struggling  to  be  larger,  from  the  amount  of  business 
going  on  in  them.  If  a  house  is  placed  inconveniently,  they 
lift  it  on  rollers  and  move  it  bodily  from  one  spot  to  another, 


376  Oceana. 

while  the  occupants  sleep  and  eat  and  go  on  with  their  em- 
ployments  as  if  nothing  was  happening.  I  myself  saw  a  man- 
sion travelling  in  this  way  without  the  help  of  an  Aladdin's 
lamp.  To  strangers,  especially  British  strangers,  the  attract- 
ive sight  in  Chicago  is  the  pig-killing.  Five  thousand  pigs 
in  a  day,  I  believe,  are  despatched,  cut  up,  and  made  into 
hams  and  bacon  ready  for  packing.  For  myself,  I  had  no 
curiosity  to  see  pigs  killed,  nor,  indeed,  much  for  Chicago 
itself,  beyond  what  a  walk  would  satisfy,  for  towns  of  this 
kind  are  like  the  articles  in  which  they  deal — one  part  is  just 
like  another ;  you  examine  a  sample  and  you  multiply  this  by 
the  dimensions. 

From  Chicago  we  went  on  to  Buffalo.  I  had  thought  of 
crossing  into  Canada,  but  the  cold  frightened  me,  just  arrived, 
as  I  was,  out  of  the  lands  of  the  sun.  In  Canada  there  is  no 
spring,  and  summer  was  still  far  off.  When  I  looked  at  Lake 
Erie  I  thought  a  gale  must  be  blowing  over  it,  from  the  line 
of  what  appeared  to  be  breakers  along  the  southern  shore  ; 
but  I  found  the  breakers  were  breakers  of  ice — huge  hills  of 
ice  driven  in  upon  the  shallows  and  piled  one  upon  the  other. 
Nor  did  I  think  that  a  visit  to  the  Dominion  would  help  me 
much  in  the  matter  which  I  had  chiefly  at  heart.  There  the 
colonial  problem  is  complicated  by  the  near  neighbourhood 
of  our  powerful  kinsmen,  who  will  expect  a  voice  in  any 
future  arrangement,  and  whom  the  Canadians  will  properly 
consider  before  any  arrangements  can  be  consented  to.  In 
no  part  of  the  Empire  is  there  a  warmer  loyalty  towards  its 
sovereign,  or  a  warmer  value  for  the  connection  with  Great 
Britain,  than  in  the  Canadian  Dominion.  There  is  no  thought 
of  annexation  with  the  United  •  States,  nor  do  the  Americans 
desire  it.  They  are  content  that  their  neighbours  shall  re- 
main a  self-governed  community  with  institutions  analogous 
to  their  own.  Hitherto,  perhaps,  they  will  not  have  looked 
favourably  on  as  close  a  federation  of  the  Canadians  with  the 


Canada  and  the   Colonial  Problem.  377 

mother  country  as  that  which  binds  their  own  Union.  It  is 
possible,  it  is  probable,  that  as  the  people  become  supreme 
among1  ourselves,  our  relations  with  the  Americans  will  be- 
come more  and  more  intimate.  The  link  which  holds  us 
together  is  the  community  of  race  and  character  ;  and  when 
the  direction  of  affairs  in  both  countries  is  in  the  hands  of 
the  same  class,  differences  and  jealousies  will  dissolve  of  them- 
selves. Any  way  the  Canadas,  with  their  splendid  marine, 
their  hardy  breed  of  seamen  and  fishermen,  their  territory 
stretching  from  the  Atlantic  to  the  Pacific,  their  share  in  a 
glorious  chapter  of  English  history,  will  not  be  the  least  bril- 
liant of  the  jewels  in  the  crown  of  Oceana.  The  Canadas  are 
part  of  us  as  much  as  Australia  and  New  Zealand,  and  will 
not  cut  themselves  adrift  while  the  mother  country  continues 
to  deserve  their  honour  and  attachment ;  but  their  relations 
with  us  and  with  the  great  power  at  their  side  form  a  sep- 
arate problem,  which  need  not  be  considered  in  a  general 
survey  of  the  Colonial  question.  They  are  without  adequate 
naval  defences.  They  depend  on  us  for  the  protection  of 
their  harbours  and  shipping  in  time  of  war,  and  I  have  been 
told,  by  those  who  ought  to  know,  that  they  would  agree 
cheerfully  to  contribute  a  subsidy,  in  common  with  the  other 
colonies,  to  the  Imperial  Navy.  It  is  possible,  on  the  other 
hand,  that  they  may  say  that  they  do  not  need  any  naval  de- 
fence, being  sufficiently  protected  by  their  neighbours.  The 
Americans  have  no  war-fleet,  being  safe  in  the  notoriety  of 
their  strength.  An  attack  on  Canada  by  a  nation  at  war  with 
Great  Britain  would,  undoubtedly,  provoke  American  inter- 
ference ;  and  with  so  formidable  a  bulwark  close  to  them,  the 
Canadians  might  decline  to  give  their  money  for  a  purpose 
which  they  might  think  unnecessary. 

Any  way  I  did  not  find  it  essential  to  go  at  that  time  to 
Canada.  If  I  went  at  all,  it  might  be  at  a  more  convenient 
season,  when  colonial  federation  had  become — if  it  ever  is  to 


378  Oceana. 

become — a  question  of  practical  politics  ;  when  it  had  been 
'  read  a  first  time '  by  public  opinion,  and  it  would  be  possi- 
ble to  enter  into  details. 

Thus,  I  decided  to  go  on  at  once  to  New  York.  Buffalo 
had  no  attractions  ;  I  shiver  now  at  the  thought  of  it.  There 
may  be  seasons  in  the  year  when  the  '  Buffalo  gals '  '  come 
out  at  night  and  dance  on  the  green,'  and  then  it  may  be 
pleasant  enough  ;  but  not  at  the  beginning  of  an  icy  May.  I 
did  not  even  turn  aside,  though  it  would  have  cost  but  three 
or  four  hours,  to  see  Niagara.  The  'finest  waterfall  in  the 
world'  becomes  uninteresting  when  the  rocks  about  it  are 
painted  in  gigantic  letters  with  advertisements  of  the  last 
quack  medicine  or  the  latest  literary  prodigy.  Moreover, 
much  nonsense  is  talked  about  the  thing  itself.  I  was  staying 
at  the  house  of  an  American  friend  at  no  great  distance  from 
it,  a  few  years  ago.  Someone  came  in  fresh  from  the  specta- 
cle, and  poured  out  his  admiring  epithets  as  if  he  had  been 
studying  an  English  Gradus  ad  Parnassum.  It  was  '  amazing,' 
'  astonishing,'  'portentous,' '  wonderful,'  to  see  so  vast  a  body 
of  water  falling  over  such  a  precipice.  '  Why,'  asked  my  host, 
'  is  it  wonderful  that  water  should  fall  ?  The  wonder  would 
be  if  it  didn't  fall.' 

New  York  is  independent  of  climate  ;  one  goes  there  to  see 
men  and  women.  It  is  American,  but  it  is  cosmopolitan  also  ; 
less  severe  than  Boston,  and  almost  as  genial  as  San  Francisco. 
On  all  subjects  you  hear  as  good  talk  and  as  sound  thought 
as  you  hear  anywhere  ;  and  for  myself  I  had  kind  friends 
there,  whom  I  found  as  warm  and  as  hospitable  as  Americans 
know  so  well  how  to  be.  No  houses  are  more  pleasant  to 
stay  in  than  those  of  cultivated  people  in  the  metropolis  of  the 
western  continent.  There  is  splendour  there,  if  you  like  to 
look  for  it ;  but  there  is  little  ostentation,  and  no  vulgarity. 
Vulgarity  is  pretence  ;  no  American  pretends  to  be  what  he 
is  not ;  and  ostentation  does  not  answer  where  the  reality 


Society  in  New   York.  379 

below  is  so  quickly  detected.  There  is  a  manner  peculiar  to 
aristocratic  circles,  which  can  only  be  formed  within  those 
circles  or  within  the  range  of  their  influence  :  the  high  breed- 
ing, the  dignified  reserve,  the  ease  and  simplicity  which,  like 
the  free  hand  of  an  artist,  rises  from  acquired  command  of 
all  the  functions  of  life.  Of  this  there  is  as  yet  little  or  noth- 
ing in  America.  It  has  not  been  able  to  grow  there.  But  the 
ease  of  good  sense  and  the  simplicity  of  good  feeling,  are  as 
marked  in  the  cultivated  society  of  New  York  as  I  had  found 
them  in  Melbourne  and  Sydney  ;  while  besides  these,  there  is 
the  intellectual  fulness  and  strength  which  belongs  to  their 
confidence  in  themselves  as  citizens  of  a  great  nation.  Ten 
years  had  passed  since  my  last  visit.  New  York  had  grown 
as  fast  as  London,  and  there  were  new  and  admirable  things 
to  see  there  :  their  Metropolitan  Railway  for  one,  which  does 
not  bore,  like  ours,  through  stifling  subterranean  caverns,  but 
is  borne  aloft  on  iron  columns  down  the  centres  of  the  busiest 
streets,  the  traffic  below  going  on  uninterrupted  and  unmo- 
lested. There  are  two  circles,  an  outer  and  an  inner.  There 
are  stations  every  half-mile,  to  which  you  ascend  by  a  staircase. 
You  are  carried  along  in  the  daylight,  and  in  fresh  air.  The 
foot-passengers  underneath  see  the  trains  fly  by,  and  are 
neither  disturbed  nor  inconvenienced  ;  and  the  structure  it- 
self is  so  light  and  airy,  that  it  scarcely  intercepts  the  light 
from  the  windows  of  the  houses.  A  greater  wonder  was  the 
Brooklyn  Suspension  Bridge,  spanning  the  estuary  which  di- 
vides New  York  from  the  Eastern  Island.  When  I  looked  at 
this  I  had  to  qualify  rny  opinion  that  there  was  nothing  grand 
in  America  except  its  human  inhabitants.  The  inhabitants 
had  erected  something  at  last  more  admirable  to  me  than 
their  Niagara  Falls.  It  is  three-quarters  of  a  mile  long,  and 
swings,  I  believe,  nearly  three  hundred  feet  above  the  sea. 
Two  towers  have  been  built  out  of  the  water,  six  hundred 
yards  apart,  over  which  the  chains  which  bear  it  are  carried. 


380  Oceana. 

The  breadth  is  the  miracle.  A  spacious  footway  runs  down 
the  centre,  raised,  perhaps,  twelve  feet  above  the  rest.  On 
either  side  of  it  is  the  railway,  and  beyond  the  railway  (again 
on  each  side)  a  cart  and  carriage  way.  The  view  from  the 
centre  is  superb  ;  New  York  itself  with  its  spires,  and  domes, 
and  palaces  ;  Brooklyn  opposite,  aspiring  to  rival  it ;  the  long 
reaches  of  the  estuary,  and  the  great  bay  into  which  it  opens, 
flanked  and  framed  by  the  New  Jersey  hills.  The  crowded 
shipping,  the  steamers  (smokeless,  for  they  use  anthracite) 
plying  to  and  fro,  the  yachts,  the  coasting  vessels,  the  grace- 
ful oyster-schooners,  swift  as  steamers  in  a  breeze — I  was  fas- 
cinated at  the  sight  of  it  all !  The  picture,  beautiful  as  it 
was,  became  a  dissolving  view,  and  there  rose  through  it  and 
behind  it  the  vision  of  the  New  York  that  is  to  be.  As  long 
as  civilisation  and  commerce  last,  New  York  and  San  Fran- 
cisco are  the  two  outlets,  which  nature  has  made  and  man  can- 
not change,  through  which  the  trade  of  America  must  issue 
eastward  and  westward.  Chicago  may  be  burnt  again,  or 
sink  into  a  dust-heap  ;  but  these  two  cities  cannot  cease  to 
grow  till  either  mankind  pass  off  the  globe  and  come  to  an 
end,  like  the  races  which  have  gone  before  them,  or  till  there 
rises  some  new  creed  or  dispensation  which  may  change  man's 
nature  ;  when,  weary  of  pursuits  which  never  satisfy,  we  may 
cease  to  run  to  and  fro,  may  withdraw  each  within  his  own 
four  walls  and  garden-hedges,  and  try  again  for  wisdom  and 
happiness  on  the  older  and  more  quiet  lines.  This,  too,  lies 
among  the  possibilities  of  the  future,  for  man  is  a  creature 
'  which  never  continueth  in  one  stay.'  Strange  things  have 
come  out  of  him,  which  the  wise  of  the  day  least  looked  for, 
and  things  more  strange  may  He  behind.  To  him  surely  the 
proverb  is  always  applicable,  that  '  nothing  is  certain  but  the 
unforeseen.' 

New  York  stands  upon  an  island  ten  miles  long  and  a  mile 
broad.     The  central  park  was,  when  I  had  last  seen  it,  the 


New   York  City.  381 

greatest  ornament  of  the  city.  It  is  still  handsome,  but  pala- 
ces and  vast  boarding-houses,  let  out  in  flats,  have  risen  since 
on  either  side,  encroaching  on  the  pleasure-ground  ;  and  the 
full  breadth  of  the  island  would  not  have  been  too  much 
breathing-space  for  so  vast  a  population.  I  walked  over  it, 
regretting  the  necessity,  which  I  suppose  was  a  real  one.  In 
other  ways,  I  found  additions.  Near  the  statues  of  Shake- 
speare and  Scott — both  of  which,  if  not  good,  are  tolerable — 
there  is  a  third  now  erected,  of  Burns,  which  I  perceived, 
with  a  malicious  satisfaction,  to  be  worse  than  the  worst  which 
we  have  in  London.  My  friends  admitted  my  criticism  ;  but 
they  alleged,  as  an  excuse,  that  it  had  been  a  present  from  the 
old  country.  There  is  a  new  statue  also,  of  Daniel  Webster  ; 
this  one  American  and  original.  It  has  neither  grandeur  nor 
beauty,  nor  attempt  at  either  ;  but  it  has  a  hard,  solid,  square 
vigour,  characteristic,  perhaps,  of  Webster,  and  a  sufficient 
likeness. 

In  sight-seeing  and  evening  hospitalities  my  time  went 
pleasantly  along.  My  enjoyments,  however,  were  cut  short 
by  a  peculiarly  vicious  cold,  which  I  had  brought  from  the 
Rocky  Mountains.  In  America  all  things  are  at  high  press- 
ure. Colds  assume  the  general  character,  and  this  particular 
one  seized  hold  on  me  with  a  passionate  ferocity.  It  fastened 
on  my  eyes.  It  was  as  if  a  vulture  had  driven  his  talons  into 
my  face  .and  throat,  and  held  them  clutched.  There  was 
nothing  serious  about  it,  and  nothing  that  was  likely  to  be 
serious.  But  the  pain  was  considerable.  I  was  told  that  the 
sea  would  take  it  away  ;  and  finding  that  a  longer  stay  would 
only  keep  me  as  a  useless  burden  on  my  kind  entertainer's 
hospitality,  we  took  our  passage  in  the  new  '  Etruria,'  the  finest, 
and  as  it  was  believed,  and  as  it  proved,  the  swiftest  steamer 
which  was  yet  upon  the  Atlantic  line.  Mr.  Charles  Butler,  to 
whose  active  friendship  I  and  other  English  men  of  letters 
owe  so  long  a  debt  of  gratitude,  drove  me  down  to  the  docks 


382  Oeeana. 

in  his  carriage,  supplied  us  with  grapes,  with  wine,  with  every- 
thing which  we  could  need  on  our  voyage.  It  was  still  cold 
— bitterly  cold  after  the  Pacific.  The  icebergs  were  about 
the  banks  of  Newfoundland.  We  had  to  take  the  longer 
southern  course  to  avoid  them,  and  even  so  we  fell  in  with  a 
floating  archipelago  of  them,  far  below  the  latitudes  to  which 
they  usually  confine  their  visits.  But  the  sea  was  smooth. 
There  was  no  wind  save  from  the  swiftness  of  our  own  move- 
ment. My  eyes  recovered,  and  I  could  walk  with  a  shade  over 
them  in  a  sheltered  gallery.  The  'Etruria,' outdoing  even  the 
expectations  which  had  been  formed  of  her,  rushed  along,  four 
hundred  and  forty  miles  a  day.  We  sailed  on  May  9  ;  early 
on  the  morning  of  the  16th — in  six  days  and  twelve  hours — 
we  slackened  speed,  to  drop  the  mails  at  Cork.  In  twelve 
hours  more  we  had  run  the  remaining  two  hundred  and  forty 
miles  to  Liverpool.  Mr.  Cunard  was  on  board,  enjoying 
quietly  his  ship's  success.  Off  Holyhead  in  perfectly  smooth 
water,  and  in  a  rollicking  exultation  over  the  fastest  passage 
yet  made,  the  engineer  quickened  the  revolutions  of  the  screw, 
as  if  to  show  what  she  could  do  ;  and  the  great  vessel — eight 
thousand  tons — flew  past  the  land  like  an  express  train,  and 
went  by  the  ordinary  steamers,  which  were  on  the  same  course 
as  ourselves,  as  if  they  were  lying  at  their  anchors  in  the  tide- 
way. 

Thus  brilliantly  ended  the  voyage  which  I  had  undertaken 
round  the  globe  to  see  the  empire  of  Oeeana.  It  remains 
only  to  sum  up  briefly  the  conclusion  at  which  I  was  able  to 
arrive. 


CHAPTEE  XXI. 

The  English  Empire  more  easily  formed  than  preserved — Parliamentary 
party  government — Policy  of  disintegration  short-sighted  and  de- 
structive— Probable  effect  of  separation  on  the  colonies— Rejected 
by  opinion  in  England — Democracy — Power  and  tendencv  of  it — 
The  British  race — Forces  likely  to  produce  union — Natural  forces 
to  be  trusted — Unnatural  to  be  distrusted — If  England  is  true  to 
herself  the  colonies  will  be  true  to  England. 

A  COMMERCIAL  company  established  our  Indian  empire  ;  if 
India  is  ever  lost  to  us,  there  is  a  common  saying  that  it  will 
be  lost  through  Parliament.  Companies  of  adventurers 
founded  our  North  American  colonies.  Those  colonies  did 
not  wish  to  leave  us.  The  Parliament  which  ruled  England 
in  the  last  century,  alienated  them  and  drove  them  into  revolt. 
The  English  people  founded  new  colonies,  richer  and  more 
varied  than  the  last.  The  politicians  who  succeeded  to  power 
when  the  aristocracy  was  dethroned  by  the  Reform  Bill,  dis- 
covered that  the  colonies  were  of  no  use  to  us,  and  that  we 
should  be  better  off  and  stronger  without  them.  It  would 
seem  as  if  there  was  some  unfitness  in  the  mode  in  which  our 
affairs  are  managed  for  holding  an  empire  together.  Aristo- 
tle Avould  explain  it  by  saying  that  states  grow  and  thrive 
through  aperrj,  or  virtue ;  that  apeTrj,  like  other  excellent 
things,  can  only  be  obtained  by  effort ;  and  that  under  popu- 
ular  government  virtue  is  taken  too  much  for  granted.  It  is 
assumed  that  where  there  is  liberty  virtue  will  follow,  and  it 
is  found,  as  a  fact,  that  it  does  not  always  follow.  This, 
though  true,  is  abstract :  one  may  say  more  particularly  that 
popular  government  is  a  government  by  parties  and  classes  ; 


384  Oceana. 

that  parties  consider  first  their  own  interests  ;  and  that  the 
interests  of  no  party  which  has  hitherto  held  power  in  this 
country  have  been  involved  in  the  wise  administration  of 
our  colonial  connections.  The  patricians  of  England  had 
nothing  in  common  with  the  colonists  in  America.  Those 
colonists  had  sprung  from  the  people.  They  were  plebeians ; 
they  were,  many  of  them,  dissenters  ;  they  inherited  the  prin- 
ciples of  the  Commonwealth ;  they  were  independent,  and 
chose  to  have  the  management  of  their  own  affairs.  The  gov- 
erning classes  at  home  tried  to  master  them,  and  did  not  suc- 
ceed. Equally  little  have  our  present  colonies  been  an  object 
of  intelligent  concern  to  the  class  which  has  ruled  us  during 
the  last  fifty  years.  It  used  to  be  considered  that  the  first 
object  of  human  society  was  the  training  of  character,  and 
the  production  of  a  fine  race  of  men.  It  has  been  considered 
for  the  last  half-century  that  the  first  object  is  the  production 
of  wealth,  and  that  the  value  of  all  things  is  to  be  measured  by 
their  tendency  to  m;ike  the  nation  richer,  on  the  assumption 
that  if  our  nation  is  enriched  collectively,  the  individuals 
composing  it  must  be  enriched  along  with  it.  Accordingly 
the  empire,  for  which  so  many  sacrifices  were  made,  has  been 
regarded  as  a  burden  to  the  tax-payer.  We  have  been  called 
on  to  diminish  our  responsibilities.  Great  Britain,  it  has 
been  said,  is  sufficient  for  herself  within  her  own  borders. 
Her  aim  should  be  to  develop  her  own  industries,  keep  her 
people  at  home,  that  the  prices  of  labor  may  be  low  enough 
to  hold  at  bay  foreign  competition,  and  with  the  national 
genius  for  mechanical  pursuits,  with  our  natural  advantages, 
&c.,  we  could  constitute  ourselves  the  great  working  firm  of 
the  world,  and  our  little  England  a  land  of  manufacturers, 
growing,  and  to  grow,  without  limit  People  would  increase, 
wages  would  increase,  to  the  desirable  point  and  not  beyond 
it.  Free  trade  would  bring  cheap  food,  and  on  a  soil  black- 
ened with  cinders  and  canopied  with  smoke,  the  nation 


Separation  or   Union?  385 

would  then  enter  on  a  period  of  unbounded  prosperity.  The 
trading  class  saw  prospects  of  a  golden  harvest.  The  land- 
lords were  well  pleased,  for  they  found  their  property  in- 
crease in  money  value.  All  went  well  for  a  time.  Prosperity 
did  seem  to  come,  and  to  advance  with  '  leaps  and  bounds.' 
As  a  natural  consequence,  though  we  were  proud  of  India 
and  were  content  to  keep  India,  at  least  till  it  could  be 
educated  to  take  care  of  itself,  there  grew  an  indifference 
to  our  last  acquired  colonial  possessions.  The  colonies  had 
no  longer  any  special  value  as  a  market  for  our  industries ; 
the  whole  world  was  now  open  to  us,  and  so  long  as  their 
inhabitants  were  well  off  and  could  buy  our  hardware  and 
calicoes,  it  mattered  nothing  whether  they  were  indepen- 
dent, or  were  British  subjects,  or  what  they  were.  They 
paid  nothing  to  the  English  exchequer,  and  our  experience 
in  America  had  taught  us  that  we  might  not  attempt  to 
tax  them.  If  we  were  at  war  we  should  have  the  burden 
of  defending  them.  The  brood  in  the  nest  was  already 
fledged.  It  was  time  for  them  to  take  wing  and  find  their 
own  livelihood. 

Leaving  aside  the  wisdom  of  this  reasoning,  it  may  be 
doubted  whether  any  country  has  a  right  to  disown  so  sum- 
marily its  responsibilities  to  its  own  citizens.  The  colonists 
were  part  of  ourselves.  They  settled  in  their  new  homes 
under  the  English  flag,  and  were  occupied  in  enlarging  the 
area  of  English  soil.  They  were  British  subjects,  and  be- 
tween subject  and  government  there  are  reciprocal  obliga- 
tions, which  only  violence  or  injustice  on  one  side  or  the  other 
can  abrogate.  They  had  emigrated  in  confidence  that  they 
were  parting  with  no  rights  which  attached  to  them  at  home, 
and  those  rights  ought  not  to  be  taken  from  them  without 
their  own  consent. 

But  there  is  a  graver  question  :  whether  the  condition  to 
which  it  was  proposed  to  reduce  our  own  country  was  really 
25 


386  Oceana. 

so  happy  a  one  as  the  modern  school  of  statesmen  conceived. 
An  England  of  brick  lanes  and  chimneys  ;  an  England  sound* 
ing  with  the  roar  of  engines  and  the  tinkle  of  the  factory  bell, 
with  artificial  recreation-grounds,  and  a  rare  holiday  in  what  re- 
mained of  wood  and  meadow,  for  those  who  without  it  would 
never  see  a  wild  flower  blowing,  or  look  on  an  unpolluted 
river  ;  where  children  could  not  learn  to  play,  save  in  alley 
or  asphalte  court ;  where  the  whole  of  the  life  of  the  immense 
majority  of  its  inhabitants  from  infancy  to  the  grave  would 
be  a  dreary  routine  of  soulless,  mechanical  labour — such  an 
England  as  this  would  not  be  described  by  any  future  poet  as 

A  precious  gem  set  in  the  silver  sea. 

Still  less  would  the  race  hereafter  to  grow  there  maintain 
either  the  strength  of  limb  or  the  energy  of  heart  which  raised 
their  fathers  to  the  lofty  eminence  which  they  achieved  and 
bequeathed.  Horace  described  the  Romans  of  his  day  as 
'inferior  to  sires  who  were  in  turn  inferior  to  theirs,'  and  as 
'  likely  to  leave  an  offspring  more  degraded  than  themselves.' 
And  it  was  true  that  the  citizens  of  the  "Roman  Empire  were 
thus  degenerate,  and  that  the  progress  which  we  speak  of  as 
continuous  may  be,  and  sometimes  is,  a  progress  downhill, 
It  is  simply  impossible  that  the  English  men  and  women  of 
the  future  generations  can  equal  or  approach  the  famous  race 
that  has  overspread  the  globe,  if  they 'are  to  be  bred  in  towns 
such  as  Birmingham  and  Glasgow  now  are,  and  to  rear  their 
families  under  the  conditions  which  now  prevail  in  those 
places.  Morally  and  physically  they  must  and  will  decline. 
Even  the  work  so  much  boasted  of  is  degrading  on  the  terms 
on  which  it  is  earned  on.  What  kind  of  nation  will  that  be 
which  has  constituted  its  entire  people  into  the  mechanical 
drudges  of  the  happier  part  of  mankind,  forced  by  the  whip 
of  hunger  to  be  eternally  manufacturing  shirts  and  coats 
which  others  are  to  wear,  and  tools  and  engines  which  others 


England  Without  Her  Colonies.  387 

are  to  use  ?  This  is  no  life  for  beings  with  human  souls  in 
them.  You  may  call  such  a  nation  free.  It  would  be  a  nation 
of  voluntary  bondsmen  in  a  service  from  which  hope  is  shut 
out.  Neither  the  toilers  who  submit  to  such  a  destiny  while 
a  better  prospect  is  open,  nor  the  employers  who  grow  rich 
upon  their  labour,  can  ever  rise  to  greatness,  or  preserve  a 
greatness  which  they  have  inherited.  The  American  colonies 
were  lost  by  the  ill-handling  of  the  patricians.  The  represen- 
tatives of  the  middle  classes  would  have  shaken  off,  if  they 
had  been  aUowed,  Australia  and  New  Zealand  and  the  Cana- 
das.  The  power  is  now  with  the  Democracy,  and  it  remains 
to  be  seen  whether  the  democracy  is  wiser  than  those  whom 
it  has  supplanted,  and  whether  it  will  exert  itself  to  save,  for 
the  millions  of  whom  it  consists,  those  splendid  territories 
where  there  is  soil  fertile  as  in  the  old  home,  and  air  and 
sunshine  and  the  possibilities  of  human  homes  for  ten  times 
our  present  numbers.  If  the  opportunity  is  allowed  to  pass 
from  us  unused,  England  may  renounce  for  ever  her  ancient 
aspirations.  The  oak  tree  in  park  or  forest  whose  branches 
are  left  to  it  will  stand  for  a  thousand  years  ;  let  the  branches 
be  lopped  away  or  torn  from  it  by  the  wind,  it  rots  at  the 
heart  and  becomes  a  pollard,  interesting  only  from  the  com- 
parison of  what  it  once  was  with  what  fate  or  violence  has 
made  it.  So  it  is  with  nations.  The  life  of  a  nation,  like  the 
life  of  a  tree,  is  in  its  extremities.  The  leaves  are  the  lungs, 
through  which  the  tree  breathes,  and  the  feeders  which  gather 
its  nutriment  out  of  the  atmosphere.  A  mere  manufacturing 
England,  standing  stripped  and  bare  in  the  world's  market- 
place, and  caring  only  to  make  wares  for  the  world  to  buy,  is 
already  in  the  pollard  stage  ;  the  glory  of  it  is  gone  for  ever. 
The  anti-colonial  policy  was  probably  but  a  passing  dream 
from  which  facts  are  awakening  us.  Other  nations  are  sup- 
plying their  own  necessities,  and  are  treading  fast  upon  our 
heels.  There  is  already  a  doubt  whether  we  can  hold  for  any 


388  Oceana. 

long  time  our  ignoble  supremacy,  and  happily  the  colonier 
are  not  yet  lost  to  us.  But  the  holding  the  empire  together 
is  of  a  moment  to  us  which  cannot  be  measured.  Our  ma- 
terial interests,  rightly  judged,  are  as  deeply  concerned  as 
our  moral  interests,  and  there  lies  before  us,  if  the  union  be 
once  placed  beyond  uncertainty,  a  career  which  may  eclipse 
even  our  past  lustre.  But,  in  theological  language,  it  is  the 
saving  of  our  national  soul,  it  is  the  saving  of  the  souls  of 
millions  of  Englishmen  hereafter  to  be  born,  that  is  really  at 
stake  ;  and  once  more  the  old  choice  is  again  before  us, 
whether  we  prefer  immediate  money  advantage,  supposing 
that  to  be  within  our  reach,  by  letting  the  empire  slide  away, 
or  else  our  spiritual  salvation.  We  stand  at  the  parting  of 
the  ways. 

The  suggestion  of  separation  originated  with  us.  No  one 
among  the  colonies  indicated  a  desire  to  leave  us  ;  yet,  in  the 
confidence  of  youth,  they  believe  that,  if  we  desert  them,  they 
can  still  hold  their  ground  alone.  They  see  what  America 
has  done,  and  they  think  that  they  can  do  the  same.  It  may 
be  so,  but  the  example  has  lessons  in  it  which  they  may  re- 
flect upon.  The  American  plantations  were  begun  in  perse- 
cution and  were  cradled  in  suffering.  They  were  formed  into 
a  nation  in  a  stern  struggle  for  existence.  They  have  passed 
through  a  convulsion  which  had  nearly  wrecked  even  them, 
and  they  have  been  hammered  on  the  anvil  of  the  Fates,  as 
all  peoples  are  whom  the  Fates  intend  to  make  much  of. 
There  is  a  discipline  essential  to  all  high  forms  of  life  which 
cannot  be  learnt  otherwise,  yet  which  must  be  learnt  before  a 
nation  can  be  made.  If  our  colonies  survive  a  Declaration  of 
Independence  they  will  meet  with  a  similar  experience. 
There  will  be  mistakes,  there  will  be  quarrels,  there  will  be 
factions.  There  will  be  perils  from  the  rashness  of  the  multi- 
tude, perils  from  the  ambition  of  popular  leaders,  perils  from 
the  imperfect  nature  of  all  political  constitutions,  which  from 


The  Colonies  Without  England.  389 

time  to  time  must  be  changed,  and  change  in  the  body  politic 
is  like  disease  in  the  individual  system,  which  takes  the  shape 
often  of  malignant  fever.  The  Spaniards,  three  centuries 
ago,  were  a  great  people  ;  as  great  in  arms,  as  great  on  sea,  as 
great  in  arts  and  literature  as  their  English  rivals.  Few 
nobler  men  have  ever  lived  than  the  great  Gonzalvo,  or  the 
generals  and  admirals  who  served  under  Charles  the  Fifth 
and  Philip  the  Second.  Spain  has  been  compared  to  the 
pelican,  who  feeds  her  young  on  her  own  entrails.  She  bled 
herself  almost  to  death  to  make  her  colonies  strong  and  vigor- 
ous, yet  their  history  since  they  were  launched  into  indepen- 
dence is  not  encouraging,  and  British  communities  under  the 
same  conditions  might  pass  easily  into  analogous  troubles.  I 
do  not  doubt  that  in  time  they  would  rise  out  of  them.  Il- 
lustrious men  might  appear  who  would  make  a  name  in  his- 
tory, and  perhaps  they  might  become  illustrious  nations  ;  but 
if  they  were  started  now  into  freedom  there  would  be  a  long 
period  in  which  it  would  be  uncertain  what  would  become  of 
them.  In  these  days,  when  the  world  has  grown  so  small  and 
the  arms  of  the  Great  Powers  are  so  long,  an  independent 
Victoria,  or  New  South  Wales,  or  New  Zealand,  would  He  at' 
the  mercy  of  any  ambitious  aggressor  who  could  dispose  of 
fleets  and  armies. 

The  colonists,  I  think,  know  and  feel  this.  They  prize 
their  privilege  as  British  subjects.  They  are  proud  of  belong- 
ing to  a  nationality  on  whose  flag  the  sun  never  sets.  They 
honour  and  love  their  sovereign,  though  they  never  look  upon 
her  presence.  Separation,  if  it  comes,  will  be  no  work  of 
theirs.  Nor  shall  we  part  friends,  as  I  have  heard  expected  ; 
for  the  dissolution  of  the  bond  will  be  regarded  as  an  injury, 
to  be  neither  forgiven  nor  forgotten.  If  that  step  is  once 
taken  in  some  fit  of  impatience  or  narrow  selfishness,  it  will 
never  be  repaired  ;  for  the  tie  is  as  the  tie  of  a  branch  to  the 
parent  trunk — not  mechanical,  not  resting  on  material  inter- 


390  Oceana. 

ests,  but  organic  and  vital,  and  if  cut  or  broken  can  no  more 
be  knotted  again  than  a  severed  bough  can  be  re-attached  to 
n  tree. 

Public  opinion  in  England  has,  for  a  time,  silenced  the  sep- 
aration policy  as  an  aim  which  can  be  openly  avowed.  Pol- 
iticians of  all  creeds  now  promise  their  constituents  to  main- 
tain the  union  with  the  colonies,  knowing  that  they  would 
forfeit  their  seats  if  they  hinted  at  disintegration  ;  and  no 
practical  statesman  whatever,  with  Sepai'atist  opinions,  can 
dare  to  give  public  expression  to  them.  There  is,  therefore, 
no  immediate  danger ;  and  the  agitation  has  had  its  uses,  for 
it  has  familiarised  the  public  with  the  bearings  of  the  ques- 
tion, and  has  put  them  on  their  guard  against  a  peril  which  had 
crept  so  close  before  they  knew  what  was  going  on.  It  has 
also  shown  the  colonists  that  the  coldness  of  Downing  Street 
and  the  indifference  of  politicians  is  no  measure  of  the  feel- 
ing with  which  they  are  regarded  by  their  general  kindred. 
The  union,  so  much  talked  of,  still  exists,  though  its  existence 
has  been  threatened. 

They  arc,  a  part  of  us.  They  have  as  little  thought  of  leav- 
ing us,  as  an  affectionate  wife  thinks  of  leaving  her  husband. 
The  married  pair  may  have  their  small  disagreements,  but 
their  partnership  is  for  '  as  long  as  they  both  shall  live.'  Our 
differences  with  the  colonists  have  been  aggravated  by  the 
class  of  persons  with  whom  they  have  been  brought  officially 
into  contact.  The  administration  of  the  Colonial  Office  has 
been  generally  in  the  hands  of  men  of  rank,  or  of  men  who 
aspire  to  rank  ;  and,  although  these  high  persons  are  fair  rep- 
resentatives of  the  interests  which  they  have  been  educated 
to  understand,  they  are  not  the  fittest  to  conduct  our  rela- 
tions with  communities  of  Englishmen  with  whom  they  have 
imperfect  sympathy,  in  the  absence  of  a  well-informed  pub- 
lic opinion  to  guide  them.  The  colonists  are  socially  their 
inferiors,  out  of  their  sphere,  and  without  personal  point 


Democracy.  391 

of  contact.  Secretaries  of  state  lie  yet  under  the  shadow  of 
the  old  impression  that  colonies  exist  only  for  the  benefit  of 
the  mother  country.  When  they  found  that  they  could  no 
longer  tax  the  colonies,  or  lay  their  trade  under  restraint,  for 
England's  supposed  advantage,  they  utilised  them  as  penal 
stations.  They  distributed  the  colonial  patronage,  the  lucra- 
tive places  of  public  employment,  to  provide  for  friends  or  for 
political  supporters.  When  this,  too,  ceased  to  be  possible, 
they  acquiesced  easily  in  the  theory  that  the  colonies  were  no 
longer  of  any  use  to  us  at  all.  The  alteration  of  the  suffrage 
may  make  a  difference  in  the  personnel  of  our  departments, 
but  it  probably  will  not  do  so  to  any  great  extent.  A  seat  in 
the  House  of  Commons  is  an  expensive  privilege,  and  the 
choice  is  practically  limited.  Not  everyone,  however  public- 
spirited  he  may  be,  can  afford  a  large  sum  for  the  mere  hon- 
our of  serving  his  country ;  and  those  whose  fortune  and 
station  in  society  is  already  secured,  and  who  have  no  pri- 
vate interests  to  serve,  are,  on  the  whole,  the  most  to  be  de- 
pended upon.  But  the  people  are  now  sovereign,  and  officials 
of  all  ranks  will  obey  their  masters.  It  is  with  the  people 
that  the  colonists  feel  a  real  relationship.  Let  the  people  give 
the  officials  to  understand  that  the  bond  which  holds  the  em- 
pire together  is  not  to  be  weakened  any  more,  but  is  to  be  main- 
tained and  strengthened  ;  and  they  will  work  as  readily,  for 
purposes  of  union,  as  they  worked  in  the  other  direction,  when 
'  the  other  direction '  was  the  prevailing  one.  I  am  no  believer 
in  Democracy,  as  a  form  of  government  which  can  be  of  long 
continuance.  It  proceeds  on  the  hypothesis  that  every  indi- 
vidual citizen  is  entitled  to  an  equal  voice  in  the  management 
of  his  country  ;  and  individuals  being  infinitely  unequal — bad 
and  good,  wise  and  unwise — and  as  rights  depend  on  fitness 
to  make  use  of  them,  the  assumption  is  untrue,  and  no  insti- 
tutions can  endure  which  rest  upon  illusions.  But  there  are 
certain  things  which  only  Democracy  can  execute ;  and  the 


392  Oceana. 

unity  of  our  empire,  all  parts  of  which  shall  be  free  and  yet 
inseparable,  can  only  be  brought  about  by  the  pronounced 
will  of  the  majority.  Securusjudicat  orbis.  No  monarchy  or 
privileged  order  could  have  dared  to  take  the  measures  neces- 
sary to  maintain  the  American  Union.  They  would  infallibly 
have  wrecked  themselves  in  the  effort.  Caesar  preserved  the 
integrity  of  the  Empire  of  Rome,  but  Csesar  was  the  armed 
soldier  of  the  Democracy.  If  the  colonies  are  to  remain  in- 
tegral parts  of  Oceana,  it  will  be  through  the  will  of  the  peo- 
ple. To  the  question,  What  value  are  they  ?  the  answer  is, 
that  they  enable  the  British  people  to  increase  and  multiply. 
The  value  of  the  British  man  lies  in  his  being  what  he  is ; 
another  organic  unit—out  of  the  aggregate  of  which  the  Brit- 
ish nation  is  made  ;  and  the  British  nation  is  something  more 
than  a  gathering  of  producers  and  consumers  and  taxpayers : 
it  is  a  factor,  and  one  of  the  most  powerful,  in  the  develop- 
ment of  the  whole  human  race.  By  its  intellect,  by  its  char- 
acter, by  its  laws  and  literature,  by  its  sword  and  cannon,  it 
has  impressed  its  stamp  upon  mankind  with  a  print  as  marked 
as  the  Roman.  The  nation  is  but  the  individuals  who  com- 
pose it,  and  the  wider  the  area  over  which  these  individuals 
are  growing,  the  more  there  will  be  of  them,  the  stronger 
they  will  be  in  mind  and  body,  and  the  deeper  the  roots  which 
they  will  strike  among  the  foundation-stones  of  things.  These 
islands  are  small,  and  are  full  to  overflowing.  In  the  colonies 
only  we  can  safely  multiply,  and  the  people,  I  think,  are 
awakening  to  know  it. 

It  may  be  otherwise.  It  may  be  that  the  people  will  say 
that  the  days  of  empires  are  past,  that  we  are  all  free  now, 
we  are  our  own  masters  and  must  look  out  for  ourselves  each 
in  our  own  way.  If  this  be  their  voice,  there  is  no  remedy. 
As  they  decide,  so  will  be  the  issue.  But  it  was  not  the 
voice  of  America.  It  need  not  be  the  voice  of  scattered 
Britain  ;  and  if  we  and  the  colonies  alike  determine  that  we 


United  Forces.  393 

wish  to  be  one,  the  problem  is  solved.  The  wish  will  be  its 
own  realisation.  Two  pieces  of  cold  iron  cannot  be  welded 
by  the  most  ingenious  hammering  :  at  white  heat  they  will 
combine  of  themselves.  Let  the  colonists  say  that  they  de- 
sire to  be  permanently  united  with  us  ;  let  the  people  at  home 
repudiate  as  emphatically  a  desire  for  separation,  and  the 
supposed  difficulties  will  be  like  the  imaginary  lion  in  the 
path — formidable  only  to  the  fool  or  the  sluggard.  No  great 
policy  was  ever  carried  through  which  did  not  once  seem 
impossible.  Of  all  truly  great  political  achievements  the  or- 
ganization of  a  United  British  Empire  would  probably  be 
found  the  easiest. 

Happily  there  is  no  need  for  haste.  The  objectors  are  for 
the  present  silent.  A  war  might  precipitate  a  solution  ;  but 
we  are  not  at  war,  and  there  is  no  prospect  of  war  at  present 
above  the  horizon.  Ingenious  schemes  brought  forward  pre- 
maturely, perhaps  in  the  interest  of  some  party  in  the  state, 
can  only  fail,  and  are  therefore  only  to  be  deprecated.  Con- 
fidence is  a  plant  of  slow  growth.  Past  indifference  cannot 
at  once  be  forgotten,  and  sudden  eagerness  will  be  suspected 
of  a  selfish  object. 

All  of  us  are  united  at  present  by  the  invisible  bonds  of 
relationship  and  of  affection  for  our  common  country,  for 
our  common  sovereign,  and  for  our  joint  spiritual  inheritance. 
These  links  are  growing,  and  if  let  alone  will  continue  to 
grow,  and  the  free  fibres  will  of  themselves  become  a  rope  of 
steel.  A  federation  contrived  by  politicians  would  snap  at 
the  first  strain.  We  must  wait  while  the  colonies  are  con- 
tented to  wait.  They  are  supposed  to  be  the  sufferers  by  the 
present  loose  relations.  They  are  exposed  to  attack,  should 
war  break  out,  while  they  have  no  voice  in  the  policy  which 
may  have  led  to  the  war.  It  would  seem  from  the  example 
of  New  South  Wales  that,  whether  they  have  a  voice  or  not, 
they  are  eager  to  stand  by  us  in  our  trials.  So  long  as  they 


394  Oceana. 

do  not  complain,  we  may  spare  our  anxieties  on  their  account 
and  need  not  anticipate  an  alienation  of  which  no  signs  have 
appeared.  If  they  feel  aggrieved  they  will  suggest  a  remedy. 
They  know,  or  will  know,  their  own  wishes  ;  and  when  they 
let  us  understand  what  those  wishes  are  we  can  consider  them 
on  their  own  merits.  Meanwhile,  and  within  the  limits  of 
the  existing  constitution,  we  can  accept  their  overtures,  if 
they  make  such  overtures,  for  a  single  undivided  fleet.  We 
can  give  them  back  the  old  and  glorious  flag  ;  we  can  bestow 
our  public  honours  (not  restricting  ourselves  to  the  colonial 
St.  Michael  and  St.  George)  on  all  who  deserve  them,  without 
respect  of  birthplace  ;  we  can  admit  their  statesmen  to  the 
Privy  Council,  and  even  invite  them  in  some  form  to  be  the 
direct  advisers  of  their  sovereign.  We  can  open  the  road, 
for  their  young  men  who  are  ambitious  of  distinguishing 
themselves,  into  the  public  service,  the  army,  or  the  navy  ; 
we  can  make  special  doors  for  them  to  enter,  by  examination 
boards  in  their  own  cities  ;  we  can  abstain  from  irritating 
interference,  and  when  they  want  our  help  we  can  give  it 
freely  and  without  grudging.  Above  all  we  can  insist  that 
the  word  'separation'  shall  be  no  more  heard  among  us. 
Man  and  wife  may  be  divorced  in  certain  eventualities,  but 
such  eventualities  are  not  spoken  of  among  the  contingencies 
of  domestic  life.  Sons  may  desert  their  parents,  but  sons 
who  had  no  such  intention  would  resent  the  suggestion  that 
they  might  desert  them  if  they  pleased.  Every  speech,  every 
article  recommending  the  disintegration  of  the  empire  which 
is  applauded  or  tolerated  at  home  is  received  as  an  insult  by 
the  colonists,  who  do  not  see  why  they  should  be  'disin- 
tegrated' any  more  than  Cornwall  or  Devonshire.  Were 
Oceana  an  accepted  article  of  faith,  received  and  acknowl- 
edged as  something  not  to  be  called  in  question,  it  would 
settle  into  the  convictions  of  all  of  us,  and  the  organic  union 
which  we  desiderate  would  pass  silently  into  a  fact  without 


Last   Words.  395 

effort  of  political  ingenuity.  We  laugh  at  sentiment,  but 
every  generous  and  living  relation  between  man  and  man, 
or  between  men  and  their  country,  is  sentiment  and  nothing 
else.  If  Oceana  is  to  be  hereafter  governed  by  a  federal 
parliament,  such  a  parliament  will  grow  when  the  time  is  ripe 
for  it,  or  something  else  will  grow — we  cannot  tell.  The 
fruit  is  not  yet  mature,  and  we  need  not  trouble  ourselves 
about  it.  Agents-general  in  the  House  of  Commons  without 
votes  ;  Agents-general  formed  into  a  council ;  colonial  life- 
peers  ;  these,  and  all  other  such  expedients  which  ingenious 
persons  have  invented,  may  be  discussed  properly  if  they  are 
put  forward  by  the  colonists  themselves.  Till  then  they  are 
better  let  alone.  The  question  is  for  them  more  than  for  us, 
and  if  such  councils  or  methods  of  representation  be  really 
desirable,  they  will  take  effect  more  readily  the  less  directly 
they  are  pressed  forward  at  home. 

After  all  is  said,  it  is  on  ourselves  that  the  future  depends. 
We  are  passing  through  a  crisis  in  our  national  existence, 
and  the  wisest  cannot  say  what  lies  before  us.  If  the  English 
character  comes  out  of  the  trial  true  to  its  old  traditions — 
bold  in  heart  and  cleai*  in  eyey  seeking  nothing  which  is  not 
its  own,  but  resolved  to  maintain  its.  own  with  its  hand  upon 
its  sword — the  far-off  English  dependencies  will  cling  to  their 
old  home,  and  will  look  up  to  her  and  be  still  proud  to  be- 
long to  her,  and  will  seek  their  own  greatness  in  promoting 
hers.  If,  on  the  contrary  (for  among  the  possibilities  there  is 
a  contrary),  the  erratic  policy  is  to  be  continued  which  for 
the  last  few  years  has  been  the  world's  wonder ;  if  we  show 
that  we  have  no  longer  any  settled  principles  of  action,  that 
we  let  ourselves  drift  into  idle  wars-  and  unprovoked  blood- 
shed ;  if  we  are  incapable  of  keeping  order  even  in  our  own 
Ireland,  and  let  it  fall  away  from  us  or  sink  into  anarchy  ;  if, 
in  short,  we  let  it  be  seen  that  we  have  changed  our  nature, 
and  are  not  the  same  men  with  those  who  once  made  our 


396  Oceana. 

country  feared  and  honoured,  then,  in  ceasing  to  deserve 
respect,  we  shall  cease  to  be  respected.  The  colonies  will  not 
purposely  desert  us,  but  they  will  look  each  to  itself,  knowing 
that  from  us,  and  from  their  connection  with  us,  there  is 
nothing  more  to  be  hoped  for.  The  cord  will  wear  into  a 
thread,  and  any  accident  will  break  it. 

And  so  end  my  observations  and  reflections  on  the  dream 
of  Sir  James  Harrington,  So  will  not  end,  I  hope  and  be- 
lieve, Oceana. 


THE   END. 


AUTHORIZED    EDITION. 


LETTERS  AND   MEMORIALS 

OF 


Jane  IVelsh  Carlyle 

PREPARED  FOR  PUBLICATION  BY  THOMAS  CARLYLE. 
Edited    by  JAMES    ANTHONY    FROUDE. 


Two  vols.,  with    Portrait,  $4.OO. 
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Public  interest  in  the  married  life  of  Thomas  Carlyle  has  been 
stimulated  to  a  high  pitch  by  the  revelations  of  the  "  Reminis- 
cences" and  Mr.  Froude's  biography,  but  it  is  to  have  a  still  fur- 
ther excitement  in  the  "  Letters  and  Memorials  of  Mrs.  Carlyle," 
which  her  husband  annotated  and  arranged  for  publication  many 
years  ago,  and  which  are  now  issued  under  Mr.  Froude's  edi- 
torial supervision.  These  letters,  however,  as  the  readers  of  the 
"  Reminiscences "  were  led  to  expect,  possess  a  much  higher 
interest  and  charm  than  as  a  mere  disclosure  of  the  daily  life  and 
habits  of  the  Carlyles.  They  contain  the  records  of  the  life  and 
associations  of  one  of  the  most  sensitive  and  brilliant  of  women. 

Many  of  the  letters  are  to  Stirling  and  other  literary  men, 
whom  Carlyle's  influence  and  genius  brought  around  him,  but  the 
majority  are  to  Carlyle  himself  during  their  frequent  separations. 
Every  sentence  is  sharply  cut  and  stamped  with  the  impress  of  a 
strong  individuality — displaying  a  keen,  bright,  affectionate  nature 
—gay,  witty,  sarcastic,  tender,  pathetic,  passionate  by  turns. 
They  are  such  letters  as  only  a  woman  could  write,  forming  a 
picture  which,  for  graphic  power,  strong  human  interest,  tragic 
intensity,  and  self-effacing  devotion,  it  would  be  hard  to  match  in 
all  the  annals  of  literature. 


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AUTHORIZED    EDITION. 


Thomas   Carlyle. 

ft  History  of  the  first  Forty  Years  of  his  Life, 
1795  to  1835. 

By   JAMES   ANTHONY  FROUDE,  M.A. 


Two  Vols.,  8vo.          -  $4.OO. 

Cheap  Edition,  two  wls.  in  one,  $1.50. 

Mr.  Proude  has  given  to  the  public  one  of  those  books  which 
must  always  be  the  rarest  and  most  valuable  in  biographical  lit- 
erature— the  life  of  one  of  the  really  dominant  personalities  of  an 
epoch,  written  by  a  skilful  and  fearless  hand,  under  circumstances 
which  give  it  the  value  of  autobiography,  and,  while  the  personal, 
as  well  as  the  literary,  influence  of  its  subject  is  still  potent. 
If  the  opinion  of  a  high  authority  is  well  founded — that  Carlyle 
is  to  be,  to  the  view  of  the  future,  the  foremost  literary  figure  o! 
our  time— this  biography  will  give  to  coming  students  such  a  faith, 
ful  and  vivid  personal  picture  as  has  never  accompanied  a  great 
name  before,  unless,  perhaps,  in  the  case  of  Lockhart's"  Life 
of  Scott." 


and  fame." — Literary    World. 


"  In  this  volume  we  have  a  portrait  of  a  wonderful  Man.  Thomas  Carlyle  w.as 
lortunate  in  his  choice  of  a  biographer.  Mr.  Froude  understands  his  man  and  the  pub- 
lic for  which  he  is  writing,  and  he  has  been  honest  towards  both.  It  is  seldom  that  we 
have  taken  up  a  Memoir  and  become  so  thoroughly  fascinated." — National  Baptist* 

"This  book  will  prove  extremely  useful  to  the  student  of  Carlyle;  it  lights  up  much 
that  was  obscure,  both  in  the  man,  and  in  his  work." — A''.  Y,  Sun. 

"  This  work  is  a  classic  and  will  go  with  Carlyle  and  his  fame  to  posterity.  It  is 
trrought  in  a  masterly  fashion." — Critic. 


*»*  For  Sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  post-paid,  upon  receipt  of  price,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  YORK.. 


AUTHORIZED    EDITION. 


Carlyle's  Reminiscences. 

EDITED  BY 

JAMES  ANTHONY  FROUDE. 


One  Vol.,  8vo.    -----    Price,  $2.5O. 
CHEAP   EDITION     •      -    $1.50. 


Mr.  Froude  has  given  to  the  public  one  of  those  books  which 
must  always  be  the  rarest  and  most  valuable  in  biographical  liter- 
ature— the  life  of  one  of  the  really  dominant  personalities  of  an 
epoch,  written  by  a  skillful  and  fearless  hand,  under  circumstances 
which  give  it  the  value  of  autobiography,  and  while  the  personal, 
as  well  as  the  literary,  influence  of  the  subject  is  still  potent. 


"If  it  were  ten  times  as  long  as  it  is,  if  Mr.  Froude  had  given  us  a  dozen  instead  ol 
two  volumes,  no  one  could  ever  weary  of  reading  the  work.  The  letters  written  by  Car- 
lyle  are  alone  absorbing  in  the  interest  they  awake,  and  in  the  entertainment  they  afford. 
They  give,  if  not  a  clearer,  at  least  a  more  vivid  portrait  of  his  peculiar  personality,  than 
any  biographer  could  possibly  give.  And  they  are  very  spicy  reading.  *  *  *  That  the 
reader  will  find  the  work  supremely  interesting  is  beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt,  and  we 
are  equally  positive  that  he  will  re-read  them  as  often  as  he  craves  a  vigorous  and  refresh- 
ing mental  tonic." — Boston  Courier. 

"  Nothing  that  Carlyle  has  published,  since  "Sartor  Resartus"  surprised  the  world  in 
1836,  is  equal  to  it  in  natural  simplicity,  in  the  full  utterance  of  the  heart,  in  clear,  bright, 
personal  pictures  of  contemporary  life.  The  key  to  Carlyle's  whole  career  is  found  in  his 
brief  memories  of  his  father;  the  story  of  his  beginnings  at  authorship  and  of  the  steps 
by  which  he  went  on  from  book  to  book  is  told  in  his  efforts  to  express  what  Mrs.  Carlyle 
was  to  him  ;  his  sketches  of  Edward  Irving  and  of  Lord  Jeffrey  account  for  passages  in 
his  own  life  which  could  only  be  related  by  himself  ;  and  the  short  glimpses  of  his  social 
interviews  with  Southey  and  Wordsworth  at  Sir  Henry  Taylor's  hospitable  house  show 
what  his  powers  of  discrimination  were,  when,  in  the  prime  of  life,  he  mingled  freely  with 
men  who  were  his  peers.  Altogether  this  book  is  very  precious." — Boston  Herald. 

"It  is  a  curious  volume,  rich  in  autobiography,  abounding  in  annecdote,  full  of  the 
quaintness,  tenderness,  humor,  frankness  and  caustic  quality  of  Carlyle's  many-sided 
queries." — New  York  Tribune. 

"  Nothing  that  Carlyle  wrote  is  of  greater  interest  than  th'S  Collection  of  Reminiscences 
*  *  *  they  bring  us  face  to  face  with  Carlyle  himself  revealing  his  singular  nature  with 
fell  his  eccentricities." — N~.  Y.  Evening  Post. 


For  Sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  sent,  fast-paid,  upon  receipt  of  price,  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS,  PUBLISHERS, 
743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW 


By    Arrangement,    -with    th.e      Author 

The   Best   Biography   of  the  Greatest  of  the   Roman*. 

CjESAR:     A   SKETCH. 

BY 
JAMES  ANTHONY  FROUDE.  M.A. 

Library    Edition,    8vo,    Cloth.     Gilt    Top,    S1.5O. 

Uniform  wt'h.  Pnmtlar  Edition  nf  Fronde's  History 

of  England,  and  Short  Studies. 


There  is  no  historical  writer  of  our  time  who  can  rival  Mr.  Fronde  in  vivid 
delineation  of  character,  grace  and  clearness  of  style,  and  elegant  anu  solid 
Kholarship.  In  his  JAfe  of  Ccesar,  all  these  qualities  appear  in  their  fullest 
perfection,  resulting  in  a  fascinating  narrative  which  will  be  read  with  keen 
delight  by  a  multitude  of  readers,  and  will  enhance,  if  possible,  Mr.  Froode'« 
brilliant  reputation. 


CRITICAL    NOTICES. 

"  The  book  is  charmingly  written,  and,  on  the  whole,  wisely  written.  There  ««  many 
admirable,  really  noble,  passages  ;  there  are  hundreds  of  pages  which  few  living  men 
could  match.  *  *  *  The  political  life  of  Caesar  is  explained  with  singular  lucidity, 
and  with  what  seems  to  us  remarkable  fairness.  The  horrible  condition  of  Roman 
society  under  the  rule  of  the  magnates  is  painted  with  startling  power  and  brilliance  of 
coloring. — Atlantic  Monthly. 

"  Mr.  Froude's  latest  work,  "  Caesar,"  is  affluent  of  his  most  distinctive  traits. 
Nothing  that  he  has  written  is  more  brilliant,  more  incisive,  more  interesting.  *  *  * 
He  combines  into  a  compact  and  nervous  narrative  all  that  is  known  of  the  personal, 
social,  political,  and  military  life  of  Caesar ;  and  with  his  sketch  of  Caesar,  includes  other 
brilliant  sketches  of  the  great  men,  his  friends  or  rivals,  who  contemporaneously  with 
him  formed  the  principal  figures  in  the  Roman  world." — Harper's  Monthly. 

"This  book  is  a  most  fascinating  biography,  and  is  by  far  the  best  account  of  Julius 
Caesar  to  be  found  in  the  English  language." — London  Standard. 

"  It  is  the  best  biography  of  the  greatest  of  the  Romans  we  have,  and  it  is  in  som» 
respects  Mr.  Froude's  best  piece  of  historical  writing." — Hartford  Courant. 

Mr.  Froude  has  given  the  public  the  best  of  all  recent  books  on  the  life,  charactd 
and  career  of  Julius  Cassar." — Phila.  Eve.  Bulletin. 


%*    For  sale  by  all  booksellers,  or  will  be  sentt  prepaid,  upon 
receipt  of  price  t  by 

CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS, 

743  AND  745  BROADWAY,  NEW  Tows 


11 

F93o 
1886 


